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ESSAYS  ON 
ENGLISH   STUDIES 

BY 

HENRY  N.  HUDSON,  LL.D. 


Edited,  with  Preface,  Introduction,  and  Notes 


A.  J.  GEORGE,  Litt.D.  (Amherst) 

Department  of  English,  Newton  High  School 


GINN   &   COMPANY 

BOSTON  •  NEW   YORK  ■  CHICAGO  •  LONDON 


1253 


Copyright,  1906 
By  GINN   &  COMPANY 


ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


66.  q 


Cbt   gtfaenatum   jprtaa 

GINN   &   COMPANY  •  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U.S.A. 


TO 
ROBERT    HUDSON    GEORGE 


Yet  it  is  just 
That  here  in  memory  of  all  books  which  lay 
Their  sure  foundations  in  the  heart  of  man 

That  I  should  here  assert  their  rights,  attest 
Their  honors,  and  should,  once  for  all,  pronounce 
Their  benediction  ;  speak  of  them  as  Powers 
Forever  to  be  hallowed  ;  only  less, 
For  what  we  are  and  what  we  may  become, 
Than  Nature's  self,  which  is  the  breath  of  God, 
Or  His  pure  Word  by  miracle  revealed. 

Wordsworth 

If  by  great  authors  the  many  are  drawn  up  into  unity, 
national  character  is  fixed,  a  people  speaks,  the  past  and  the 
future  are  brought  into  communication  with  each  other,  —  if 
such  men  are,  in  a  word,  the  spokesmen  and  prophets  of  the 
human  family,  —  it  will  not  answer  to  make  light  of  Literature 
or  to  neglect  its  study ;  rather  we  may  be  sure  that,  in  propor- 
tion as  we  master  it,  and  imbibe  its  spirit,  we  shall  ourselves 
become  in  our  own  measure  ministers  of  like  benefits  to  others. 

John    Henry  Cardinal   Newman 


PREFACE 

In  1 85 1  there  was  published  in  Boston  an  edition  of 
Shakespeare's  plays  in  eleven  volumes,  edited  by  Henry  N. 
Hudson.  This  edition  —  the  second  by  an  American,  Ver- 
planck's  being  the  first  —  at  once  attracted  the  attention 
of  students  of  literature  in  Europe  and  America  because  of 
the  independence,  originality,  and  suggestiveness  revealed 
in  the  analysis  of  the  characters,  and  the  insight,  sympathy, 
and  sanity  of  the  aesthetic  criticism.  As  a  result  the  editor 
soon  became  recognized  as  one  whose  opinions  challenged 
attention  as  did  those  of  Gervinus  of  Heidelberg  and 
Dowden  of  Dublin.  Professor  Hudson's  object,  everywhere 
manifest,  even  in  his  earlier  work,  was  to  quicken  in  the 
minds  and  hearts  of  readers  a  love  for  Shakespeare,  as  a 
man  and  artist,  by  bringing  them  into  vital  relations  with 
his  manifold  revelations  of  human  life. 

Few  of  those  who  have  found  pleasure  in  teaching  the 
English  classics  are  aware  of  what  a  debt  they  owe  to 
Professor  Hudson,  who  did  pioneer  work  in  making  the 
study  of  English  literature  popular  in  private  classes,  sec- 
ondary schools,  and  colleges.  He  was  able  to  do  this  by 
virtue  of  his  unbounded  enthusiasm  in  his  work,  his  belief 
that  literature  properly  taught  would  awaken  a  living  inter- 
est in  all  that  belongs  to  humanity,  and  his  wealth  of  expe- 
rience in  life.  His  ambition  to  do  this  for  English  literature 
was  not  free  from  disturbing  fears  that  the  methods  which 
were  so  much  in  vogue  in  teaching  the  Greek  and  Latin 


x  PREFACE 

The  address  on  Daniel  Webster  is  included  in  this  vol- 
ume as  being  worthy  of  study  beside  those  later  tributes 
of  Honorable  S.  W.  McCall  and  Honorable  George  F.  Hoar, 
given  at  the  Webster  Centennial  at  Dartmouth  College. 

My  thanks  are  due  to  Dr.  Horace  Howard  Furness  for 
permission  to  quote  from  his  correspondence  with  Dr. 
Hudson,  and  to  Professor  Edward  Dowden,  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  for  his  interesting  present-day  estimate  of 
Dr.  Hudson's  work,  which  appears  in  the  Notes. 

The  presence  of  a  cross  (+)  in  the  text  indicates  that  there 

is  a  note  on  the  passage. 

A.  J.  GEORGE 

Brookline,  Massachusetts 
August,  1906 


CONTENTS 

Page 

Introduction xn> 

Preface  to  School  Hamlet.    (1879) 3 

English  in  Schools.   (1879) 19 

Shakespeare  as  a  Text-Book.    (1870) 53 

How  to  Use  Shakespeare  in  School.    (1872)     .     .  63 
Preface  to  the  Harvard  Edition  of  Shakespeare. 

(1880) 87 

Daniel  Webster.    A  Discourse  Delivered  on  the  Hun- 
dredth Anniversary  of  the  Death  of  Daniel  Webster, 

January  18,  1882 119 

Appendix 163 

Notes *77 

Books  Quoted  in  Notes 205 


INTRODUCTION 

Henry  Norman  Hudson  was  born  in  Cornwall,  Vermont, 
January  28,  1814.  His  early  years  were  spent  on  the  farm, 
where  he  was  brought  up  to  know  the  necessity  and  the 
value  of  application.  The  only  advantages  which  he  had 
for  an  education  were  such  as  were  common  in  a  New 
England  town  with  its  system  of  district  schools.  But  these 
advantages  should  not  be  underrated,  for  though  the  soil 
was  not  rich  in  arts  and  letters,  yet  by  the  discipline  of 
simplicity  in  habit,  truth  in  speech,  and  knowledge  rightly 
honored  by  being  associated  with  power  to  do  some- 
thing worthy,  the  youth  was  being  unconsciously  nurtured 
into  possibilities  of  future  usefulness.  Much  of  his  power 
to  appreciate  and  interpret  Wordsworth  was  gained  in 
these  rural  associations,  breathing  the  keen  and  wholesome 
air  of  poverty. 

When  eighteen  years  of  age  young  Hudson  left  the  farm 
and  became  apprenticed  to  a  coach  maker.  During  the  three 
years  spent  in  learning  his  trade  he  was  working  extra  hours 
to  earn  additional  wages  with  which  to  buy  books.  How  mature 
his  mind  had  become  under  the  simple  and  natural  training 
of  the  time  —  and  especially  of  the  district  school  where  he 
came  upon  bits  of  the  great  poets  and  prose  writers  in  the 
old  reading  book  —  is  seen  from  the  fact  that  the  first  books 
which  he  bought  were  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Plutarch's  Lives, 
and  Butler's  Analogy.  It  was  fortunate  for  him,  as  he 
often  remarked  to  me,  that  at  this  time  he  lived  in  the 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

family  of  his  master  in  the  trade,  a  man  full  of  sympa- 
thy, of  shrewd  observation,  and  sound  sense.  The  master 
soon  saw  that  his  apprentice  was  spending  his  time  in  read- 
ing to  some  purpose,  for  he  talked  intelligently  and  grace- 
fully upon  the  subjects  in  life  and  letters  which  interested 
him  ;  he  therefore  suggested  to  him  the  possibility  of  pre- 
paring for  college.  The  suggestion  somewhat  surprised  the 
lad,  but  it  pleased  him  no  less,  and  he  at  once  set  about 
the  task  of  getting  ready  for  the  examinations.  This  he  had 
to  do  for  himself,  working  late  and  early  at  his  tasks,  for 
he  could  get  no  aid  save  occasional  advice  from  the  local 
clergyman;  and  yet  in  1836  he  entered  Middlebury  Col- 
lege, where  his  older  brother  was  then  a  student,  deter- 
mined that  he  would  work  his  way  to  the  end. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  the  main  elements  of  his 
character  as  revealed  later  in  life  received  their  proper 
bent.  He  had  little  time  for  the  usual  college  festivities,  as 
he  was  older  than  the  average  student  and  had  learned  the 
value  of  time.  He  was  somewhat  shy  and  reserved  ;  he 
lived  much  by  himself,  with  nature  and  with  books.  The 
libraries  attracted  him  more  than  the  playground.  He  was 
studious  in  much  the  same  way  that  Emerson  was,  —  a  way 
that  did  not  show  immediate  returns,  and  so  failed  of  reward 
based  upon  the  usual  college  tests  ;  consequently  he  was 
left  unnoticed  and  in  obscurity  by  the  college  faculty  and 
most  of  the  students.  His  tastes  were  literary  and  forensic. 
He  was  skilled  in  the  art  of  reading  and  talking,  and  when- 
ever he  found  students  of  kindred  mind  he  was  free  and 
friendly  in  conversation,  and  courageous  in  presenting  his 
convictions.  When  speaking  of  or  writing  on  his  favorite 
authors  he  was  animated  and  zealous,  full  of  poetic  fervor 
and  originality.    His  essays,  especially  those  on  Shakespeare, 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

were  no  mere  reproductions  of  facts  or  the  thoughts  of 
others,  but  were  characterized  by  clear  insight,  keen 
analysis,  sound  judgment,  and  fervid  feeling,  enlivened  by 
a  quiet  and  quaint  humor.  They  were  free  from  the  spirit 
of  judicial  criticism,  for  he  insisted  that  loving  sympathy 
was  the  secret  of  insight.  It  was  this  sympathy,  this  power 
of  making  the  author's  ideas  and  feelings  his  own,  that  won 
for  him  the  fit  audience  in  that  rural  college.  Reverend 
H.  L.  Sheldon,  a  college  mate  of  his,  writes :  "At  one  time 
when  Hudson  seemed  even  more  than  usually  earnest  and 
happy  in  his  comments,  I  remarked  to  him  :  '  Hudson,  you 
will  some  day  write  a  book  on  Shakespeare  ;  I  will  give 
you  a  title,  —  The  Beauties  of  the  World's  Greatest  Poet.' 
He  replied,  '  Oh,  no ;  I  read  and  study  this  author  only 
because  of  the  genuine  pleasure  it  affords  me  and  the  kind 
of  rest  it  gives  me  from  the  fatigue  and  routine  of  my  col- 
lege application.'  "  Here  was  the  substance  of  his  great 
work  as  an  aesthetic  critic,  and  the  fundamental  principle 
in  all  his  teaching  of  the  English  classics.  From  this  early 
recognition  of  the  purpose  and  the  power  of  great  litera- 
ture he  became  a  bitter  enemy  of  pedantry  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  drudgery  on  the  other,  which  have  been  so  often 
associated  with  literary  studies,  and  have  done  so  much  to 
prevent  their  proper  recognition  in  academic  education. 

On  graduating  from  college  in  1840  he  went  to  Ken- 
tucky, where  he  began  teaching.  The  next  two  years  he 
taught  in  Huntsville,  Alabama.  He  continued  his  Shake- 
speare studies  meanwhile,  and  gathered  material  for  a  series 
of  lectures  which  he  gave  to  large  and  enthusiastic  audi- 
ences in  the  principal  southern  cities.  These  lectures 
revealed  such  a  wealth  of  ideas,  originality  of  interpreta- 
tion, ripeness  of  thought,  vigor  and  mastery  of  language  that 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

their  fame  traveled  northward,  and  in  1844  he  came  to 
Boston  and  began  that  work  which  made  him  a  marked 
literary  figure  there  for  nearly  half  a  century.  Through  his 
lectures  on  Shakespeare  he  became  a  center  of  peculiar 
interest  in  Boston.  He  was  received  with  enthusiasm  by 
men  as  wide  apart  as  Richard  H.  Dana  and  Theodore 
Parker.  Mr.  Emerson,  who  was  then  lecturing  upon  liter- 
ary and  philosophical  subjects  up  and  down  the  land,  was 
charmed  with  the  personality  of  the  new  critic.  Mr.  George 
Ticknor  was  enthusiastic  in  his  admiration  for  the  spirit 
of  the  young  and  chivalrous  expounder  of  the  great  poet. 
Hudson  soon  became  as  popular  as  Emerson  himself  in 
lecture  courses  in  all  the  great  cities.  Mr.  Horace  Howard 
Furness  writes  me, "  I  vividly  remember  the  enthusiasm  which 
attended  his  early  course  of  lectures  in  Philadelphia  and  the 
unexampled  crowds  which  attended  them."  In  1848  he 
published  his  lectures  with  a  preface  and  dedication  to  Mr. 
Richard  H.  Dana.  These  studies  of  types  of  human  nature 
as  illustrated  in  Shakespeare's  various  characters  had  a  glow 
and  warmth,  a  freshness  of  imaginative  conception,  and  a 
clearness  of  critical  insight  superior  to  that  attained  by  any 
American  writer,  and  placed  their  author  in  the  front  rank 
of  interpreters.  So  popular  were  they  that  a  second  edition 
was  called  for  in  less  than  a  year.  Dr.  Bartol,  in  reviewing 
them  for  the  North  American  Review,  said  :  "  Never  was  a 
heartier,  more  absorbing  admiration  shown  than  Mr.  Hud- 
son's for  his  subject.  After  long-continued  meditation  and 
much  rewriting  these  lectures  are  now  presented  to  us 
like  '  beaten  oil,'  pure  and  rich." 

It  was  but  natural  that  such  studies  of  Shakespeare 
should  lead  to  a  desire  to  prepare  an  edition  of  his 
works  for  the  purpose  of  initiating  the  general  reader  into 


INTRODUCTION  xvn 

a  study  of  the  dramatist  with  a  new  and  more  human- 
istic spirit.  In  1851  he  brought  out  an  edition  of  Shake- 
speare's plays  in  eleven  volumes.  This  is  sometimes  called 
the  first  American  edition  because  of  the  enthusiasm  it 
created  among  readers.  Although  Mr.  G.  C.  Verplanck  had 
brought  out  an  edition  in  1847,  it  soon  became  rare  because 
of  the  destruction  of  the  plates  by  fire,  and  Mr.  Hudson's 
edition  had  the  control  of  the  market  until  Mr.  Richard 
Grant  White  became  his  rival.  This  work  owed  its  repu- 
tation and  success  mainly  to  the  character  of  the  critical 
introductions  to  the  plays  in  which  were  found  the  same 
unique  and  admirable  interpretations  of  the  characters 
which  had  been  the  feature  of  his  lectures.  It  was  at  once 
evident  that  Hudson  was  a  pupil  of  Coleridge,  whose 
criticism  was  a  criticism  of  love.  Coleridge  combined  the 
impulse  of  admiration  with  the  ability  to  explain  why  he 
admired  ;  he  criticised  poetry  as  poetry,  not  as  science. 

In  1852  Hudson  married  Miss  Emily  S.  Bright,  a  gifted 
and  cultured  lady,  whose  love  was  in  her  home  and  the 
things  which  make  home  lovely.  She  became  his  wisest  and 
most  sympathetic  critic.  In  1859  he  was  admitted  to  the 
diaconate  of  the  Episcopal  Church.  He  was  for  several 
years  editor  of  the  Churchman  and  originated  the  Church 
Monthly.  In  1862,  while  in  his  parochial  charge  in  Litch- 
field, Connecticut,  he  became  chaplain  of  the  New  York 
Volunteer  Engineers  and  war  correspondent  of  the  New 
York  Evening  Post.  Being  stationed  in  the  department 
commanded  by  General  B.  F.  Butler,  he  wrote  a  private 
letter  to  Mr.  Godwin  in  regard  to  the  general's  defeat  near 
Bermuda  Hundred.  This  was  used  as  a  part  of  an  editorial 
in  the  Evening  Post.  Soon  after  this  Chaplain  Hudson  got 
leave  of  absence  to  visit  his  son  who  was  lying  at  the  point 


XViii  INTRODUCTION 

of  death.  After  the  death  of  the  son  Mrs.  Hudson  was  so 
broken  down  with  grief  that  the  chaplain  sent  his  resignation 
to  his  colonel.  It  was  accepted  and  forwarded  to  General 
Butler,  who  saw  his  chance  to  get  even  with  Hudson,  and 
he  ordered  him  to  appear  at  headquarters  on  the  charge  of 
being  absent  without  leave.  He  was  then  put  into  the 
prison,  or  "  bull  pen,"  as  it  was  called,  where  he  suffered  all 
kinds  of  indignities  and  hardships  during  a  period  of  several- 
months,  until  his  friends  at  Washington  became  informed 
of  the  condition  of  things,  when  he  was  released  by  wish  of 
President  Lincoln,  and  immediately  General  Grant  gave  him 
leave  of  absence.  Later  Mr.  Hudson  took  occasion  to  review 
the  case,  and  in  a  pamphlet  of  sixty  pages  arraigned  the 
motive  and  method  of  General  Butler  in  the  most  scathing  and 
brilliant  repartee  since  Burke's  "  Letter  to  a  Noble  Lord." 
At  the  time  General  Butler  was  seeking  the  governorship 
of  Massachusetts  Mr.  Hudson  reprinted  the  pamphlet  as  a 
political  document.  On  this  occasion  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes  wrote  to  him  :  "Your  pamphlet  is  timely;  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  impending  election  is  to  mark  the  choice  of 
Massachusetts  between  civilization  and  semibarbarism.  I 
am  very  glad  you  have  retold  your  story  at  a  time  when  it 
will  serve  as  a  strong  count  in  his  indictment." 

In  1865  Mr.  Hudson  moved  to  Cambridge,  where  he 
spent  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  occasionally  officiated 
in  churches,  but  his  time  was  given  almost  entirely  to  teach- 
ing Shakespeare  and  other  English  authors  and  to  lectur- 
ing. When  Grant  White's  last  edition  of  Shakespeare  came 
out  Mr.  Hudson  confessed  that  it  had  beaten  his,  but  at  the 
time  he  said,  "  Wait  awhile,  and  I  will  beat  White  as  much 
as  he  has  now  beaten  me."  His  teaching  in  the  school  and 
college  led  him  to  urge  that  Shakespeare  be  made  of  more  use 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

in  English  courses,  and  he  began  to  prepare  the  plays  for 
such  use.  The  feature  of  these  plays  was  those  remarkable 
introductions  dealing  with  the  characters  in  their  relation  to 
human  life  and  to  Shakespeare's  mind  and  art. 

In  1872  he  published  hlsmagnum  opus,  Shakespeare's  Life, 
Art,  and  Characters,  in  two  volumes,  which  is  the  greatest 
work  in  the  sphere  of  aesthetic  criticism  yet  produced  in 
this  country,  and  is  the  equal  of  the  best  by  English  and 
German  scholars.  The  concluding  act  of  his  literary  life 
was  the  Harvard  Shakespeare,  in  twenty  volumes,  published 
in  1880.  This  edition,  new  in  the  treatment  of  text,  in  the 
introductory  matter  and  notes,  at  once  took  its  place  among 
the  best  and  most  reliable  of  those  intended  for  the  general 
reader. 

After  the  completion  of  the  Harvard  edition  he  con- 
tinued teaching  regularly  at  St.  Paul's  School,  Concord,  New 
Hampshire,  at  St.  Mark's,  Southboro,  and  in  the  Boston 
University  School  of  Oratory,  where  he  was  a  great  favor- 
ite, owing  to  his  kindling  intellectual  power,  quaint  humor, 
and  genial  manner.  One  of  the  masters  at  St.  Paul's  writes 
of  him  :  "  The  ideal  of  a  well-balanced  man  was  so  consist- 
ently applied  by  Dr.  Hudson,  whether  to  an  author's  work 
or  to  a  boy's  education,  that  he  saw  indeed  how  excellent 
nature's  provisions  are  and  how  good  man's  will  may  make 
his  destiny.  These  aims  and  standards  come  back  again  and 
again  to  us  with  real  force  as  we  recall  his  noble,  manly, 
and  eloquent  words.  He  was  poet,  critic,  philosopher,  and 
preacher  all  in  one, 

non  sorditus  auctor 
Naturae  verique ; 

and  his  wisdom  was  enforced  by  the  loving  example  of  his 
own  genuine  goodness." 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

Next  to  Shakespeare,  Wordsworth,  Burke,  and  Webster 
were  the  authors  he  most  delighted  to  expound.  His  Studies 
in  Wordsworth  was  a  work  in  every  way  worthy  of  him 
and  the  poet  whom  he  loved.  His  admiration  for  Webster 
was  unbounded,  and  the  quality  of  all  he  had  written  and 
spoken  on  him  was  so  true  and  noble  that  his  distin- 
guished classmate,  the  Honorable  E.  J.  Phelps,  president 
of  the  Webster  Historical  Society,  asked  him  to  prepare  a 
life  of  the  great  statesman.  In  February,  1882,  Mr.  Phelps 
wrote  :  "  Do  not  forget  that  I  have  appointed  you  to  write 
that  grand  life,  and  shall  help  you  to  all  constitutional  and 
legal  material  I  know  of." 

He  had  thought  long  and  deeply  about  Webster,  his  life 
and  times,  and  had  gathered  the  material  which  he  was  to 
incorporate  into  the  biography  ;  he  was  waiting  only  until 
the  whole  subject  should  be  luminous  to  his  thought  when 
the  disease  appeared  which  caused  his  death.  He  had  not 
even  put  pen  to  paper  on  this  work.  His  death  was  sudden 
and  unexpected,  as  he  had  been  in  his  usual  health  and 
vigor  until  his  last  public  appearance  in  a  lecture  on  Cym- 
beline  at  Wellesley  College.  He  was  much  fatigued  by  the 
effort ;  soon  glandular  swelling  appeared  in  the  neck, 
which  gave  his  physicians  some  fear  that  an  operation 
would  be  necessary.  During  the  week  following  I  saw  him 
daily,  and  the  only  apparent  change  was  declining  strength  ; 
that  whereas  he  had  been  willing  to  talk  (as  I  was  more 
than  willing  to  listen)  now  he  would  say  :  "  You  must  do 
the  talking.  I  must  listen.  Tell  me  of  your  work."  He  was 
as  much  interested  as  ever  in  any  question  concerning  edu- 
cation, —  especially  the  teaching  of  English,  —  so  that  while 
I  had  some  anxiety  as  to  his  condition,  I  did  not  think  that 
he  was  seriously  ill.    When  I  left  him  on  the  evening  before 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

the  operation  there  was  nothing  in  his  manner  to  indicate 
that  he  was  apprehensive  of  the  result.  The  following  letter 
written  to  his  publisher  only  a  few  days  before  his  death 
reveals  the  nature  of  the  man,  and  shows  how  careful  he 
was  not  to  alarm  his  friends  :  "  I  am  no  better  nor,  so  far 
as  I  can  judge,  am  I  any  worse  than  when  you  called.  The 
principal  change  is  a  constant  failure  of  strength.  To-morrow 
(Saturday)  at  twelve  o'clock  they  will  perform  a  very  serious 
operation  on  me.  What  the  result  may  be  is,  of  course,  all 
in  the  dark.  If  my  hour  has  come,  so  be  it.  Give  my  cordial 
regards  to  all  the  dear  girls  and  boys  in  the  house,  and  ask 
them  to  give  me  their  good  wishes  and  prayers  in  this  hour 
of  trial.  God  help  me  !  and  God  help  us  all  !  "  The  shock 
of  the  operation  was  too  great  for  his  weakened  system,  and 
he  died  on  January  16,  1886. 

Mr.  Hudson  was  a  man  of  marked  peculiarities,  physical 
and  mental.  He  has  often  been  compared  to  Carlyle  in  the 
contour  of  his  head  and  face.  The  following  comparison 
was  written  by  Reverend  Julius  Ward  in  1880:  "He  has 
the  same  perceptive  assaulting  brow,  the  same  eager  restless 
eyes,  the  same  personality  in  speech,  the  same  impetuous 
utterance,  the  same  intensity  of  feeling  upon  great  ques- 
tions, the  same  glowing  passion  when  aroused,  the  same  spir- 
itual insight  as  has  Carlyle.  He  was  Carlyle  on  the  lecture 
platform  as  truly  as  Carlyle  in  conversation.  His  recent 
lectures  in  Hawthorne  Hall  were  rare  displays  of  totally 
unique  powers  of  public  speaking,  of  a  way  of  saying  unfor- 
gettable things  in  an  unforgettable  style,  of  throwing  great 
force  into  single  sentences,  of  speaking  the  truth  so  that  no 
one  can  gainsay  it.  Whenever  he  has  spoken,  by  word  or 
pen,  he  has  unconsciously  spoken  or  written  with  the  same 
impetuosity,   the   same  audacity,   the   same   insight  which 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

mark  the  utterances  of  the  venerable  Chelsea  sage."  He 
was  a  man  of  might  when  paying  a  tribute  to  noble  men 
and  worthy  causes,  of  large  and  liberal  spirit ;  his  mental 
and  moral  fiber  was  stanch  and  true,  and  hence  he  was  a 
delightful  friend  and  implacable  enemy.  He  was  brilliant 
in  conversation,  quick  in  repartee,  pungent  in  satire,  of 
delicate  irony,  of  shy  and  gentle  humor,  merry  within  the 
limits  of  becoming  mirth.  He  was  at  his  best  in  the  privacy 
of  his  library  when  a  few  friends  were  present :  then  the 
soft  blue  eyes  would  kindle  with  appreciation,  or  flash  with 
indignation,  the  features  would  light  up,  the  lips  quiver, 
and  his  utterance  would  assume  forms  lucid,  graceful,  witty, 
pathetic,  and  imaginative  by  turns.  He  became  '  the  old 
man  eloquent,'  stimulating  in  wit,  wholesome  in  knowledge, 
full  of  the  genial  sap  of  humanity.  No  one  who  enjoyed 
these  familiar  expositions,  of  mellow  eloquence,  of  large  and 
noble  discourse  full  of  the  sweets  of  poetry  and  the  wisdom 
of  philosophy,  will  ever  forget  them  or  the  charming  per- 
sonality from  whom  they  emanated. 

Of  the  many  tributes  of  friends,  that  of  Honorable  E.  J. 
Phelps,  written  from  the  legation  of  the  United  States, 
London,  January  30,  1886,  is  perhaps  the  most  fitting: 
"  Student,  Scholar,  Gentleman,  Christian,  happy  in  his  family, 
his  friendships,  his  distinguished  reputation,  his  well-earned 
success  :  not  many  reach  the  limit  of  three-score  and  ten 
with  so  much  to  be  thankful  for,  so  little  to  deplore." 


ESSAYS   ON 

ENGLISH   STUDIES 

PREFACE  TO  SCHOOL  HAMLET 

ENGLISH  IN  SCHOOLS 

SHAKESPEARE  AS  A  TEXT-BOOK 

HOW  TO  USE  SHAKESPEARE  IN  SCHOOL 

PREFACE  TO  THE  HARVARD  EDITION  OF 
SHAKESPEARE 

DANIEL  WEBSTER 


PREFACE   TO   SCHOOL    HAMLET 

Since  the  first  volume  of  my  School  Shakespeare  made  its 
appearance,  which  was  about  nine  years  ago,  very  consider- 
able advances  have  been  made  in  the  way  of  furniture  and 
preparation  needful  or  desirable  for  such  a  work.  This  is 
especially  the  case  with  the  play  here  presented  in  a  new  5 
dress.  And  my  own  long  and  constant  occupation  in  teach- 
ing classes  in  Shakespeare  has,  I  would  fain  hope,  now 
brought  me  a  somewhat  larger  and  riper  fitness  for  doing 
what  is  requisite  in  this  particular  field.  Moreover,  the 
stereotype  plates  of  this  play,  as  also  of  some  others,  have  10 
been  so  much  and  so  often  used  for  the  pamphlet  sections 
of  the  volume,  that  they  have  become  not  a  little  worn  and 
defaced.  These  are  the  principal  reasons  for  setting  forth 
the  present  edition. 

I  still  adhere  to  my  old  plan  of  footnotes, +  instead  of  15 
massing  the  annotation  all  together  at  the  end  of  the  play. 
This  is  because  ample  experience  has  assured  me,  beyond 
all  peradventure,  that  whatever  of  explanation  young  stu- 
dents need  of  Shakespeare's  text  —  and  they  certainly  need 
a  good  deal  —  is  much  better  every  way  when  placed  directly  20 
under  the  eye,  so  that  they  can  hardly  miss  it ;  and  because 
at  least  nineteen  in  twenty  of  such  pupils  will  pass  over  an 
obscure  word   or  phrase  without  understanding   it,  rather 
than  stay  to  look  up  the  explanation  in  another  part  of  the 
volume.    In  this  instance,  however,  I  have  meant  to  exclude  25 
from  the  footnotes  all  matter  but  what  appeared  fairly  needful 

3 


4  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

or  useful  for  a  proper  understanding  of  the  Poet's  language 
and  meaning.  As  will  readily  be  seen  from  some  of  the 
footnotes,  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Joseph  Crosby,  of  Zanes- 
ville,  Ohio,  for  most  valuable  aid  towards  this  part  of  my 
5  task.  The  matter  so  used  has  been  communicated  to  me 
in  a  private  correspondence  with  that  gentleman,  running 
through  several  years,  and  extending  over  the  whole  field  of 
Shakespeare,  and  throwing  more  light  on  dark  and  difficult 
passages  than  I  have  received  from  any  other  living  com- 

10  mentator  on  the  Poet. 

Another  advantage  of  the  method  of  footnotes  is,  that 
it  operates  as  a  wholesome  restraint  against  overdoing  the 
work  of  annotation.  And  surely,  if  we  may  judge  from 
what  has  been  done,  it  is  so  much  easier  to  multiply  super- 

15  fluous  notes  than  to  keep  within  the  bounds  of  what  is  fairly 
needful  in  this  kind,  that  some  such  restraint  seems  eminently 
desirable.  Shakespeare,  it  scarce  need  be  said,  has  suffered 
a  great  deal  from  this  sort  of  exegetical  incontinence.  And 
perhaps  the  tendency  is  stronger  now  than  ever  before  to 

20  smother  his  workmanship  beneath  a  mass  of  needless  and 
even  obstructive  annotation.4"  An  inordinate  fecundity  of 
explanation  is  quite  too  much  the  order  of  the  day.  There 
have  been  divers  instances,  of  late,  where  we  find  the  gloss, 
I  cannot  say  outweighing,  but  certainly  far  outbulking,  the 

25  text.  Surely  it  is  better  to  leave  students  a  little  unhelped 
than  thus  to  encumber  them  with  superfluous  help.  These 
burdens  of  unnecessary  comment  are  really  a  "  weariness  of 
the  flesh  "  ;  and  even  hungry  minds  may  well  be  repelled  from 
a  feast  so  overlaid  with  quenchers  of  the  appetite.    Nor  have 

30  the  Poet's  editors  yet  got  their  minds  untied  from  the  old 
vice  of  leaving  many  of  his  darkest  things  unexplained,  and 
of  explaining  a  multitude  of  things  that  were  better  left  to 


PREFACE  TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  5 

take  care  of  themselves.  For  pupils  ought  not  to  be  put  to 
studying  Shakespeare  at  all,  until  they  have  grown  to  such  a 
measure  of  intelligence,  that  they  may  be  safely  presumed 
to  know  several  things  without  being  told. 

Such  being  the  case,  or  at  least  my  view  of  the  case,  I  am  5 
not  without  apprehension,  that  some  excess  may  be  justly 
charged  upon  what  is  here  done.  Self-restrained  and  spar- 
ing as  I  have  meant  to  be,  still  there  is  a  considerable  addi- 
tion to  the  number  of  notes  given  in  my  former  edition. 
But,  in  the  matter  of  annotation,  it  is  not  easy  to  strike  just  10 
the  right  medium  between  too  much  and  too  little.  Here, 
again,  I  have  been  mainly  guided  by  the  results  of  my  own 
experience  in  teaching ;  aiming  to  give  such  and  so  many 
notes  as  I  have  found  needful  or  conducive  to  a  fair  under- 
standing of  the  Poet's  thought.  15 

In  the  present  stage  of  Shakespearean  study,  I  suppose  it 
would  hardly  do,  even  in  a  book  designed  for  school  use,  to 
leave  the  matter  of  textual  comment  and  textual  correction 
altogether  untouched.  Accordingly  there  will  be  found,  at 
the  end  of  the  play,  a  body  of  Critical  Notes,4"  wherein  I  20 
have  drawn  together  whatever  seemed  necessary  or  desirable 
to  be  said  in  the  way  of  textual  criticism,  and  of  comment  on 
such  particulars  of  textual  correction  as  are  here  admitted. 
In  doing  this,  I  have  almost  unavoidably  been  led  to  note  a 
few  instances  of  different  readings.  25 

These  few  cases  excepted,  I  have  purposely,  and  with  full 
deliberation,  abstained  from  everything  in  the  line  of  vari- 
orum comment  and  citation.  For,  indeed,  such  matter, 
however  right  and  good  in  its  place,  can  hardly  be  of  any  use 
or  interest  save  to  those  who  are  making  or  intending  to  30 
make  a  specialty  of  Shakespearean  lore.  But,  of  the  pupils 
and  even  the  teachers  in  our  schools  and  colleges,  probably 


6  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

not  one  in  five  hundred  has,  or  ought  to  have,  any  thought 
of  becoming  a  specialist  in  Shakespeare,  or  a  linguistic  anti- 
quary in  any  department  of  study.  To  such  students,  a 
minute  discussion  or  presentation  of  various  readings  must 
5  needs  be  a  stark  impertinence;  and  its  effect,  if  it  have 
any,  can  hardly  be  other  than  to  confuse  and  perplex  their 
thoughts.  In  this,  as  in  other  walks  of  human  service,  the 
processes  of  elaborate  study  are  of  very  limited  use,  and  may 
well  be  confined  to  a  few ;  while  the  last  results  of  such 

10  study  are  or  may  be  highly  useful  to  all.  I  hold,  indeed, 
that  Shakespeare  ought  to  be  made  much  more  of  than  he  is 
in  our  higher  education  :  +  not,  however,  with  the  view  of  fit- 
ting people  to  be  editors  and  critics ;  but  that  they  may 
have  their  minds  and  hearts  rightly  attuned  to  the  delecta- 

15  tions  of  his  poetry  and  eloquence  and  wisdom;  and  that 
they  may  carry  from  the  study  some  fair  preparation  of 
liberal  thought  and  culture  and  taste  into  the  common  pur- 
suits and  interests  of  life.  The  world  is  getting  prodigiously 
overstocked  with  authors ;  +  so  many  are  aspiring  to  gain  a 

20  living  by  their  wits,  that  the  thing  is  becoming  a  dreadful 
nuisance  :  and  it  really  seems  full  time  that  we  should  begin 
to  take  more  thought  how  a  condition  of  "  plain  living  " 
may  be  sanctified  with  the  grace  of  "  high  thinking  " ;  and 
how  even  the  humbler  and  more  drudging  forms  of  labor 

25  may  be  sweetened  by  the  pure  and  ennobling  felicities  of 
unambitious  intelligence. 

A  question  has  lately  been  raised,  and  is  still  pending,  as 
to  the  comparative  value  of  verbal  and  of  what  is  called  aes- 
thetic criticism;  and  some  have  spoken  disparagingly,  not 

30  to  say  contemptuously,  of  the  latter,  as  a  mere  irrelevancy, 
which  they  would  fain  be  rid  of  altogether.  Verbal  criti- 
cism certainly  has  its  place,  and  in  its  place  is  not  to  be 


PREFACE   TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  7 

dispensed  with ;  and  it  has  at  least  this  advantage  over  the 
other,  that  it  is  strictly  necessary  in  the  study  of  such  authors 
as  Shakespeare,  who  abounds  in  words  and  phrases  which, 
to  common  readers,  are  quite  unintelligible  without  such 
help.  This,  however,  may  easily  be  overdone,  and  in  fact  5 
sometimes  has  been  hugely  overdone,  insomuch  as  to  be- 
come little  better  than  a  sheer  encumbrance  ;  nevertheless,  on 
the  whole,  it  has  been  of  incalculable  service.  But  the  other, 
I  must  think,  has  done  good  service  too,  and  has  fairly  justi- 
fied its  claims  to  a  high  estimate  in  Shakespearean  lore  :  10 
albeit  I  have  to  confess  that  some  discredit  has  of  late  come 
upon  it,  from  the  fact  that,  in  divers  cases,  it  has  taken  to 
very  odd  and  eccentric  courses,  and  has  displayed  an  ill- 
starred  propensity  to  speculate  and  subtilize  the  Poet's  work- 
manship clean  out  of  its  natural  propriety.  Transcendental  15 
metaphysics,  whether  applied  to  science,  to  philosophy,  to 
art,  or  to  whatsoever  else,  of  course  loves  to  "  reason  high, 
and  finds  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost."  Whatever  it 
takes  in  hand,  it  can  easily  discover  any  meaning  it  wants, 
and  as  easily  argue  away  any  meaning  not  in  accordance  20 
with  its  idealistic  predilections ;  so  using  its  alchemy  as  to 
"  extract  sunbeams  from  cucumbers,"  or  to  resolve  gold  into 
vapor,  just  as  it  happens  to  list.  But  these  abuses  may  very 
well  be  struck  off  without  casting  away  the  thing  itself.  And 
the  aesthetic  criticism  of  Coleridge,  Schlegel,  Charles  Lamb,  25 
Hazlitt,  and  Mrs.  Jameson,  has  probably  done  more  to  diffuse 
and  promote  the  study  of  Shakespeare,  than  all  the  verbal 
criticism  in  the  world  put  together.4" 

The  Introduction  here  given,  as  also  some  of  the  footnotes, 
is  mainly  occupied  with  matter  in  this  line ;  the  aim  be-  30 
ing,  to  aid  such  students  as  may  care  to  be  aided,  towards 
what  may  be  termed  the  interior  study  of  Shakespeare's 


8  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

characters.  Ordinarily,  in  books  designed  for  such  use  as 
the  present,  I  deem  it  better  to  reproduce  extracts  from 
approved  masters  in  critical  discourse  than  to  obtrude  any 
judgments  of  my  own.  But  my  views  of  Hamlet  are  so 
5  different  from  those  commonly  put  forth,  that  in  this  case  I 
judged  it  best  to  set  them  aside,  and  to  occupy  the  limited 
space  at  my  disposal  with  a  presentation  of  my  own  thoughts. 
In  this  part  of  the  work,  I  have  derived  much  furtherance 
from  Professor  Karl  Werder's  able  essay  on  Hamlet,  portions 

10  of  which,  very  choicely  translated,  are  given  in  Mr.  H.  H. 
Furness's  great  and  admirable  work,  the  variorum  edition  of 
the  play.  My  own  views  were  indeed  substantially  the  same 
long  before  I  had  any  knowledge  of  the  German  Professor, 
and  even  before  his  essay  was  written ;  but  I  would  not  if  I 

15  could,  and  certainly  could  not  if  I  would,  disguise  that  I  am 
indebted  to  him  for  much  aid,  and  more  encouragement, 
towards  a  full  statement  and  expression  of  them. 

The  occasion  moves  me  to  protest,  with  all  possible  ear- 
nestness, against  the  course  now  too  commonly  pursued  in 

20  our  studying  and  teaching  of  English  literature.  We  seem 
indeed  to  have  got  stuck  fast  in  the  strange  notion,  that  chil- 
dren are  never  learning  anything  unless  they  are  conscious 
of  it :  +  and  so  we  are  sparing  no  pains  to  force  in  them  a 
premature  and  most  unhealthy  consciousness  of  learning. 

25  Nothing  is  left  to  the  free  and  spontaneous  vitalities  of 
Nature.  Things  have  come  to  such  a  pass  with  us,  that  a 
pupil  must  live, 

Knowing  that  he  grows  wiser  every  day, 
Or  else  not  live  at  all,  and  seeing  too 
30  Each  little  drop  of  wisdom  as  it  falls 

Into  the  dimpling  cistern  of  his  heart. 


PREFACE  TO  SCHOOL  HAMLET  9 

Hence  our  education  is  kept  at  a  restless  fever  heat  of 
ambition  and  emulation;  and  this  naturally  involves  an 
incessant  urging  of  high-pressure  methods.  We  have  no 
faith  in  any  sowing,  save  where  the  seeds  "  forthwith  spring 
up,  because  they  have  no  deepness  of  earth."  So  eager  and  5 
impatient  are  we  for  immediate  results,  that  the  conditions 
and  processes  of  inward  growth  are,  as  far  as  possible, 
worked  off  and  got  rid  of.  But  the  results  attained  by  this 
straining  and  forcing  are  necessarily  false  and  delusive  ;  and 
presently  wither  away,  because  they  have  no  root.  10 

Thus  in  our  hot  haste  to  make  the  young  precociously 
intellectual,  we  are  just  burning  real  health  and  vigor  of 
intelligence  out  of  them  ;+  or,  at  all  events,  the  best  that 
can  be  gained  by  such  a  course  is  but  what  Wordsworth 
justly  deprecates  as  "knowledge  purchased  with  the  loss  15 
of  power."  For,  in  truth,  when  people,  of  whatever  age,  see 
themselves  growing  from  day  to  day,  they  are  not  really 
growing  at  all,  but  merely  bloating ;  —  a  puffing  up,  not  a 
building  up.  And  we  shall  assuredly  find,  in  due  time,  nay, 
we  are  already  finding,  that  those  who  get  ripe  before  they  20 
are  out  of  their  teens  begin  to  rot  before  passing  their  twen- 
ties. For  such  a  forced  and  premature  action  of  the  mind 
can  only  proceed  by  overtaxing  and  exhausting  other  parts 
of  the  system  ;  and  must  needs  be  followed  by  a  collapse  of 
the  mind  itself  equally  premature.  In  other  words,  where  25 
the  brain  is  built  up  at  the  expense  of  the  stomach,  the  brain 
itself  must  soon  break  down.  And,  as  "  the  child  is  father 
of  the  man,"  so  of  course  the  smart  boys  of  our  educational 
hotbeds  can  only  blossom  out  into  grown-up  intellectual 
manikins.  30 

Now,  in  opposition  to  all  this,   be   it   said,   again  and 
again,  that  the  work  of  education  is  necessarily  secret  and 


10  HUDSON'S    ESSAYS 

unconscious  just  in  proportion  as  it  is  deep  and  generative. 
For  the  mind  is  naturally  conscious  only  of  what  touches  its 
surface,  rustles  in  its  fringes,  or  roars  in  its  outskirts ;  while 
that  which  works  at  its  vital  springs,  and  feeds  its  native 
5  vigor,  is  as  silent  as  the  growing  of  the  grass,  as  unconscious 
as  the  assimilation  of  the  food  and  the  vitalizing  of  the 
blood.  When  its  springs  of  life  are  touched  to  their  finest 
issues,  then  it  is  that  we  are  least  sensible  of  the  process. 
So  it  is  rightly  said,  "  the  gods  approve  the  depth  and  not 

10  the  tumult  of  the  soul."  Only  the  dyspeptic  are  conscious 
of  their  gastric  operations  :  the  eupeptic  never  think  of 
their  stomachs,  are  not  even  aware  that  they  have  any. 

One  would  suppose  that  a  little  reflection  on  the  workings 
of  the  infant  mind  might  teach  us  all  this.+    For  children, 

1 5  during  their  first  five  years,  before  they  can  tell  anything  about 
it,  or  make  any  show  of  it  in  set  recitations,  and  while  they 
are  utterly  unconscious  of  it,  do  a  vast  amount  of  studying 
and  learning ;  probably  storing  up  more  of  real  intelli- 
gence than  from  any  subsequent  ten  years  of  formal  school- 

20  ing.  And  such  schooling  is  no  doubt  best  and  wisest  when 
it  continues  and  copies,  as  far  as  may  be,  those  instinctive 
methods  of  Nature.  But  the  pity  of  it  is,  that  our  educa- 
tion, as  if  "  sick  of  self-love,"  appears  to  spurn  the  old  wis- 
dom of  Nature,  preferring  to  take  its  rules  and  measures 

25  from  a  proud  and  arrogant  intellectualism. 

In  the  mental  and  moral  world,  as  in  the  physical,  the 
best  planting  is  always  slow  of  fruitage  :  generally  speaking, 
the  longer  the  fruit  is  in  coming,  the  sounder  and  sweeter 
when  it  comes  ;  an  interval  of  several  years,  perhaps  of  ten, 

30  or  even  twenty,  being  little  time  enough  for  its  full  and  per- 
fect advent.  For  growth  is  a  thing  that  cannot  be  extempo- 
rized ;  and,  if  you  go  about  to  extemporize  it,  you  will  be 


PREFACE   TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  n 

sure  to  cheat  or  be  cheated  with  a  worthless  surface  imita- 
tion :  that  is  to  say,  in  place  of  a  growth,  which  is  slow 
and  silent,  but  full  of  juice  and  taste  withal,  will  be  substi- 
tuted a  swift,  loud,  vapid  manufacture. 

What  a  teacher,  therefore,  most  especially  needs  (and    5 
parents  need  it  too)  is  the  faith  that  knows  how  to  work 
and  wait ;  —  to  work  diligently,  carefully,  earnestly  ;  to  wait 
calmly,  patiently,  hopefully  ;  +  —  that  faith  which,  having  its 
eye  on  the  far-off  future,  does  not  thirst  for  present  rewards, 

Nor  with  impatience  from  the  season  ask  10 

More  than  its  timely  produce. 

For  Nature,  the  honest  old  Mother,  is  far  better,  stronger, 
richer,  than  our  busy  and  meddlesome  intellectualists,  who 
are  straining  so  hard  to  get  ahead  of  her,  have  the  heart  to 
conceive.    Human  wisdom  may  indeed  aid  and  further  her  15 
processes  ;  but  it  is  stark  folly  to  think  of  superseding  them. 
And  the  forcing  system  now  so  much  in  vogue  is  essentially 
a  leveling  system ;    though,  to  be    sure,  it  can  only  level 
downwards  :  perhaps,  indeed,  the  circumstance  of  its  look- 
ing to  a  compelled  equality  is  what  makes  it  so  popular; —  20 
a  thing  sure  to  issue  in  a  manifold  spuriousness  !    For  its 
estimate  of  things  is,  for  the  most  part,  literally  preposterous. 
Minds  of  a  light  and  superficial  cast  it  overstimulates  into  a 
morbid  quickness  and  volubility,  wherein  a  certain  liveliness 
and  fluency  of  memory,  going  by  rote,  parrot-like,  enables  25 
them  to  win  flashy  and  vainglorious  triumphs  by  a  sort  of 
cheap  and  ineffectual  phosphorescence  ;  thus  making  them, 
as  Professor  Huxley  says,  "conceited  all  the  forenoon  of 
their   life,    and    stupid    all    its    afternoon "  :    while,    upon 
minds  of  a  more  robust  and  solid  make,  which  are  growing  30 
too  much  inwardly  to  do  any  shining  outwardly,  it  has  a 


12  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

disheartening  and  depressing  effect.  Thus  the  system  oper- 
ates to  quench  the  deeper  natures,  while  kindling  false  fires 
in  the  shallower. 

Hence,  no  doubt,  the  feeling,  which  can  hardly  be  new  to 
5  any  thoughtful  teacher  or  parent,  that  "  strongest  minds  are 
often  those  of  whom  the  noisy  school  hears  least."  +  For, 
under  the  system  in  question,  modest  vigor  is  naturally 
eclipsed  by  pert  and  forward  imbecility,  — the  proper  charac- 
teristic of  minds  that  have  not  strength  enough  to  keep  still. 

10  But  minds  thus  heated  into  untimely  efflorescence  can  hardly 
ripen  into  anything  but  sterility  and  barrenness  :  before  the 
season  of  fruitage,  the  sap  is  all  dried  out  of  them.  To 
quote  Professor  Huxley  again:  "The  vigor  and  freshness, 
which  should  have  been  stored  up  for  the  hard  struggle  for 

15  existence  in  practical  life,  have  been  washed  out  of  them 
by  precocious  mental  debauchery,  —  by  book-gluttony  and 
lesson-bibbing  :  their  faculties  are  worn  out  by  the  strain 
upon  their  callow  brains,  and  they  are  demoralized  by  worth- 
less, childish  triumphs  before  the  real  work  of  life  begins." 

20  Of  those  who  are  so  incessantly  driving  on  this  bad  system, 
we  may  well  ask,  with  Wordsworth,  — 

When  will  their  presumption  learn, 
That  in  th'  unreasoning  progress  of  the  world 
A  wiser  spirit  is  at  work  for  us, 
25  A  better  eye  than  theirs,  most  prodigal 

Of  blessings,  and  most  studious  of  our  good, 
Even  in  what  seem  our  most  unfruitful  hours  ? 

Now,  Shakespeare,  above  all  other  authors,  should   be 

allowed  to  teach  as  Nature  teaches,  else  he  ought  not  to 

30  be  used  as  a  text-book  at  all.    And  here,  I  suspect,  the 

great  danger  is,  that  teachers,  having  too  little  faith  in  the 

spontaneous  powers  of  Nature,  will   undertake   to  do  too 


PREFACE  TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  13 

much,  will  keep  thrusting  themselves,  their  specialties  and 
artificial  preparations,  between  the  pupil  and  the  author. 
With  average  pupils,  if  of  sufficient  age,  Shakespeare  will 
make  his  way,  slowly  and  silently  indeed,  but  effectively,  pro- 
vided his  proper  efficacy  be  not  strangled  and  defeated  by  5 
an  excess  of  learned  verbalism.  For  his  great  superiority 
lies  very  much  in  this,  that  he  writes  close  to  facts  as  they 
are  :  no  cloud  of  words,  nothing,  stands  between  his  vision 
and  the  object.  Hence  with  him,  preeminently,  language 
is  used  as  a  transparent,  invisible  vehicle  of  thought  and  10 
matter ;  so  that  the  mind,  if  rightly  put  in  communication 
with  him,  thinks  not  of  his  expression  at  all,  but  loses  sight 
of  it,  in  the  force  and  vividness  of  what  is  expressed.  Beau- 
tiful his  speech  is  indeed ;  but  its  beauty  lies  in  this  very 
thing,  that  it  is  the  crystal  shrine,  itself  unseen,  of  the  speak-  15 
ing  soul  within.  The  less,  therefore,  the  attention  of  students 
is  diverted  from  his  matter  to  his  language  by  external  calls, 
the  quicker  and  stronger  will  be  their  interest  in  him  ;  —  an 
interest  free,  natural,  and  unconscious  indeed,  but  all  the 
better  for  that :  so  that  the  teacher  will  best  further  it  by  20 
letting  it  alone ;  will  most  effectively  help  it  by  leaving  it 
unhelped.  For  the  learning  of  words  is  a  noisy  process ;  + 
whereas  the  virtue  of  things  steals  into  the  mind  with  noise- 
less step,  and  is  ever  working  in  us  most  when  we  per- 
ceive it  least.  And  so,  when  Shakespeare  is  fairly  studied  25 
in  the  manner  here  proposed,  the  pupil  will  naturally  be 
drawn  to  forget  himself ;  all  thought  of  the  show  he  is 
to  make  will  be  cheated  into  healthful  sleep ;  unless,  ay, 
unless  — 

Some  intermeddler  still  is  on  the  watch  30 

To  drive  him  back,  and  pound  him,  like  a  stray, 
Within  the  pinfold  of  his  own  conceit. 


14  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

Not,  however,  but  that  something  of  special  heed  should 
be  given  to  the  Poet's  language,  and  his  use  of  words ;  for 
many  of  these  are  either  unfamiliar  or  used  in  unfamiliar 
senses  :  but  this  part  of  the  study  should  be  kept  strictly 
5  subordinate  to  the  understanding  of  his  thought  and  mean- 
ing, and  should  be  pushed  no  further  than  is  fairly  needful 
to  that  end.  But  I  have  ample  cause  for  saying,  that  in  many 
cases,  if  not  in  most,  altogether  too  much  time  and  strength 
are  spent  in  mere  word-mongering  and  lingual  dissection ;  a 

10  vice  as  old  indeed  as  Cicero's  time,  who  pointedly  ridicules 
it  in  describing  one  as  "  a  chanter  of  formulas,  a  bird-catcher 
of  syllables."  In  fact,  as  we  are  now  chiefly  intent  on  edu- 
cating people  into  talkers,  not  workers,  so  the  drift  of  our 
whole  education  is,  to  make  language  an  ultimate  object  of 

15  study,  instead  of  using  it  as  a  medium  for  converse  with 
things  :  for  we  all  know,  or  ought  to  know,  that  the  readiest 
and  longest  talkers  are  commonly  those  who  have  little  or 
nothing  to  say.  On  every  side,  teachers  are  to  be  found 
attending  very  disproportionately,  not  to  say  exclusively,  to 

20  questions  of  grammar,  etymology,  rhetoric,  and  the  mere 
technicalities  of  speech ;  thus  sticking  forever  in  the  husk 
of  language,  instead  of  getting  through  into  the  kernel  of 
matter  and  thought. 

Now,  as  before  implied,  Shakespeare,  least  of  all,  ought  to 

25  be  taught  or  studied  after  this  fashion.  A  constant  dissecting 
of  his  words  and  syllables  just  chokes  off  all  passage  of  his 
blood  into  the  pupil's  mind.+  Our  supreme  master  in  the 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  it  is  little  less  than  downright 
sacrilege  to  be  thus  using  him  as  the  raw  material  of  philo- 

30  logical  exercitations.  In  the  degree  that  it  is  important 
people  should  acquire  a  taste  for  him  and  learn  to  love  him, 
just  in  that  degree  is  it  a  sin  to  use  him  so ;  for  such  use 


PREFACE  TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  15 

can  hardly  fail  to  breed  a  distaste  for  him  and  an  aversion 
to  him.  Doubtless  there  is  a  time  for  parsing,  as  there  is 
for  other  things ;  but  people  cannot  parse  themselves  or 
be  parsed  into  a  relish  for  Shakespeare's  workmanship,  or 
into  a  fruitful  converse  with  his  treasures  of  wisdom  and  5 
power. 

And  with  the  young,  especially,  the  study  of  vernacular 
authors  should  be  prosecuted  in  entire  subservience  to  the 
knowledge  of  things  :  if  turned  into  a  word-mongering  pro- 
cess, it  touches  no  free  and  natural  springs  of  interest,  and  10 
so  becomes  tedious  and  dull,  — just  the  thing  to  defeat  all 
that  pleasure  which  is  the  pulse  of  mental  life.  For  the 
proper  business,  as  also  the  healthy  instinct  of  young  minds 
is,  to  accumulate  and  lay  in  stores  of  matter  :  the  analytic 
and  discriminative  processes  naturally  belong  to  a  later  15 
period  ;  and  to  anticipate  the  proper  time  of  them  is  a  very 
bad  mistake.  But  the  knowledge  of  things  proceeds  too 
slowly  and  too  silently  for  the  ends  of  schoolroom  show. 
Boys  in  school  and  college  shine  chiefly  by  the  knowledge 
of  words,  for  this  is  the  mere  work  of  memory ;  but,  in  prac-  20 
tical  life,  men  are  useful  and  successful  in  proportion  to  their 
knowledge  of  things  :  which  knowledge  proceeds,  to  be  sure, 
by  the  measures  of  growth,  and  therefore  is  far  less  avail- 
able for  competitive  examinations  and  exhibitory  purposes. 
And  so,  forsooth,  our  children  must  be  continually  drilled  in  25 
a  sort  of  microscopic  verbalism,  as  if  we  had  nothing  so 
much  at  heart  as  to  make  them  learned  in  words,  ignorant 
of  things.  Hence,  too,  instead  of  learning  how  to  do  some 
one  thing,  or  some  few  things,  they  must  learn  how  to 
smatter  of  all  things  :  instead,  for  example,  of  being  taught  30 
to  sing,  they  must  be  taught  to  prate  scientifically  about 
music. 


16  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

Thus  our  educational  methods  are  all  converging  to  the 
one  sole  purpose  of  generating  a  depurated  and  conceited 
intellectualism  ;  which  is  just  about  the  shallowest,  barrenest, 
windiest  thing  in  the  whole  compass  of  man's  intellectual 
5  globe.  But,  what  is  strangest  of  all,  so  becharmed  are  we 
with  our  supposed  progress  in  this  matter,  as  not  to  see,  what 
is  nevertheless  as  plain  as  the  Sun  at  midday,  that  we  are 
taking  just  the  right  course  to  stunt  and  thwart  the  intellect 
itself.    For  the  several  parts  of  the  mind  must  grow  in  pro- 

10  portion,  keeping  touch  and  time  together  in  the  unity  of  a 
common  sap  and  circulation,  else  growth  itself  is  but  decay 
in  disguise.  And  when  the  intellectual  man,  through  pride 
of  self-sufficingness,  sequesters  itself  from  its  natural  com- 
merce and  reciprocation  with    the  moral,  emotional,  and 

15  imaginative  man,  the  intellect  must  needs  go  into  a  dry  rot. 

I  was  convinced  long  ago,  and  further  experience  has  but 
strengthened  that  conviction,  that  in  the  study  of  English 
authors  the  method  of  recitations  is  radically  at  fault,  and 
ought  seldom  if  ever  to  be  used.+    For  that  method  naturally 

20  invites,  and  indeed  almost  compels,  the  pupil  to  spend  all 
his  force  on  those  points  only  which  are,  or  may  be  made, 
available  for  immediate  recitational  effect.  But,  if  the  author 
be  really  worth  studying,  all,  or  nearly  all,  that  is  best  in 
him  escapes  through  the  fingers  of  this  process,  and  is  left 

25  behind  ;  the  pupil  having  no  occasion  for  attending  to  it,  nor 
any  strength  of  attention  to  spare  for  it.  He  does  nothing 
but  skip  lightly  over  the  surface  of  what  is  before  him,  picking 
up  such  small  items  as  the  tongue  and  memory  can  handle; 
but  remaining  quite  innocent  of  all  its  deeper  efficacies, 

30  which  would  indeed  be  rather  an  encumbrance  than  a  help 
in  reference  to  what  he  has  in  view.    For  the  best  thing  that 


PREFACE  TO   SCHOOL  HAMLET  17 

the  best  authors  can  do  is  to  quicken  and  inspire  the  stu- 
dent's mind  :  but  quickening  and  inspiration  are  nowise 
things  to  be  recited  ;  their  natural  effect  is  to  prevent  glib- 
ness  of  memory  and  tongue  :  and,  while  the  pupil  is  intent 
only  on  what  he  can  recite,  the  author's  quickening  and  5 
inspiring  power  has  no  chance  to  work  ;  and  he  just  runs  or 
slides  over  it  without  being  touched  by  it,  or  catching  any 
virtue  from  it.  It  is  just  the  difference  of  mere  acquirement 
and  culture  :  for  what  the  mind  gains  in  the  way  of  acquire- 
ment merely,  is  lost  almost  as  quickly  as  it  is  got ;  but  what-  10 
ever  of  culture  is  gained  abides  as  an  inseparable  part  of  the 
mind  itself.  Thus  the  same  rule  holds  here  as  in  so  many 
other  things,  that,  when  pupils  are  studying  merely  or 
mainly  for  effect,  all  the  best  effect  of  the  study  is  inevi- 
tably missed.  '5 

For  these  reasons,  I  have  never  had  and  never  will  have 
anything  but  simple  exercises ;  +  the  pupils  reading  the 
author  under  the  teacher's  direction,  correction,  and  ex- 
planation ;  the  teacher  not  even  requiring,  though  usually 
advising,  them  to  read  over  the  matter  in  advance.  Thus  20 
it  is  a  joint  communing  of  teacher  and  pupils  with  the 
author  for  the  time  being ;  just  that,  and  nothing  more. 
Nor,  assuredly,  can  such  communion,  in  so  far  as  it  is 
genial  and  free,  be  without  substantial  and  lasting  good  ; 
far  better  indeed  than  any  possible  cramming  of  mouth  25 
and  memory  for  recitation.  The  one  thing  needful  here 
is,  that  the  pupils  rightly  understand  and  feel  what  they 
read  :  this  secured,  all  the  rest  will  take  care  of  itself ; 
because,  when  this  is  gained,  the  work  is,  not  indeed  done, 
but  fairly  and  effectively  begun ;  and  what  is  once  so  30 
begun  will  be  ever  after  in  course  of  doing,  never  done. 
For  people  cannot  dwell,  intelligently  and  with  open  minds, 


18  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

in  the  presence  of  "  sweetness  and  light,"  or  within  the 
sound  of  wisdom  and  eloquence,  without  being  enriched, 
—  enriched  secretly,  it  may  be,  but  permanently  ; '  for  the 
enrichment  is  in  the  shape  of  germs,  which  have  in  them 
5  the  virtue  of  perennial  growth.  And  when  I  find  the  pupils 
taking  pleasure  in  what  they  are  about,  entering  into  it 
with  the  zest  and  spirit  of  honest  delight,  then  I  know  full 
well  that  they  are  drinking  in  the  author's  soul  power,  and 
that  what  they  are  drinking  in  is  going  to  the  right  spot. 

10  For,  to  find  joy  and  sweetness  in  the  taste  of  what  is  pure 
and  good,  is  the  strongest  pledge  that  things  are  going  well. 
And  such  a  communing  of  youthful  minds  with  genius  and 
mellow  wisdom  has  something  of  mystery  and  almost  of 
magic  in  it.    Rather  say,  it  is  a  holy  sacrament  of  the  mind. 

15  As  beautiful,  too,  as  it  is  beneficent :  in  this  naughty-lovely, 
or  this  lovely-naughty,  world  of  ours,  I  hardly  know  of  a 
lovelier  sight.  There  is,  be  assured  there  is,  regeneration 
in  it. 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS 

Why  should  English  Literature  be  taught  in  our  schools? 
and,  What  is  the  best  way  of  teaching  it?  These  are  the 
questions  which  I  propose  to  discuss. 

As  preliminary  to  such  discussion,  it  will,  I  think,  be 
rightly  in  place  to  consider,  briefly,  what  our  people  are  5 
aiming  to  prepare  their  children  for,  and  what  sort  of  an 
education  it  is  the  proper  business  of  the  school  to  give  ; 
that  is  to  say,  what  form  of  mind  and  character,  and  what 
disposition  of  the  faculties,  it  is  meant  to  impress. 

Now  I  take  it  that  a  vast  majority  of  the  pupils  in  our  10 
schools  are  not  to  pass  their  life  as  students  or  as  authors. 
Their  main  business  in  this  world  is  to  gain  an  honest  living 
for  themselves  and  for  those  dependent  on  them.    And  no 
plan  of  education  is  just  that  leaves  this  prime  considera- 
tion behind,  in  quest  of  any  alleged  higher  aims  :  for  there  15 
really  are  no  higher  aims ;  and  all  pretense  of  such  is  a 
delusion  and  a  snare.    Some  men,  it  is  true,  do  more  than 
gain  an  honest  living ;  but  this  is  the  best  thing  that  any 
man  does;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  shining  intellectually  is 
the  poorest  thing  that  any  man  does,  or  can  possibly  learn  20 
to  do.    Then  too  most  of  the  pupils  in  our  schools,  ninety- 
nine  hundredths  of  them  at  the  least,  are  to  get  their  living 
by  handwork,  not  by  head  work  ;  +  and  what  they  need  is, 
to  have  their  heads  so  armed  and  furnished  as  to  guard 
their  handwork  against  error  and  loss,  and  to  guide  it  to  25 
the  most  productive  means  and  methods.    And,  for  gaining 

19 


20  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

an  honest  living  by  handwork,  the  largest  and  best  part 
of  their  education  is  not  to  be  had  in  school ;  it  must  be 
got  somewhere  else,  or  not  at  all.  The  right  place,  the 
only  right  place,  for  learning  the  trade  of  a  farmer  or  a 
5  mechanic  is  on  the  farm  or  in  the  shop.  For  instance, 
Mr.  Edward  Burnett's  "  Deerfoot  Farm,"  in  Southborough, 
Massachusetts,  is,  I  undertake  to  say,  a  better  school  for 
learning  agriculture  than  any  "  agricultural  college  "  is  likely 
to  be.    There  is  no  practicable,  nay,  no  possible  way  of 

10  acquiring  the  use  of  tools  but  by  actually  handling  them, 
and  working  with  them.  And  this  rule  holds  equally  true 
in  all  the  walks  of  life,  —  holds  as  true  of  the  lawyer,  the 
physician,  the  merchant,  as  of  the  shoemaker,  the  brick- 
layer, the  machinist,  the  blacksmith. 

15  On  this  point,  our  people  generally,  at  least  a  very  large 
portion  of  them,  have  their  notions  all  wrong  side  up  : 
their  ideas  and  expectations  in  the  matter  are  literally  pre- 
posterous. How  the  thing  came  to  be  so,  it  were  bootless 
to  inquire  ;  but  so  it  clearly  is.    Parents,  with  us,  are  mani- 

20  festly  supposing  that  it  is  the  business  of  the  school  to 
give  their  children  all  the  education  needful  for  gaining  an 
honest  living;  that  their  boys  and  girls  ought  to  come  from 
the  school-teachers'  hands  fully  armed  and  equipped  for 
engaging,  intelligently  and  successfully,  in  all  sorts  of  work, 

25  whether  of  head  or  of  hand.  And  they  are  evermore  com- 
plaining and  finding  fault  because  this  is  not  done ;  that 
their  children,  after  all,  have  only  learned  how  to  use  books, 
if  indeed  they  have  learned  that,  and  know  no  more  how  to 
use  tools,  are  no  better  fitted  to  make  or  procure  food  and 

30  clothes,  than  if  they  had  spent  so  much  time  in  stark  idle- 
ness or  in  sleep.  But  the  fault  is  in  themselves,  not  in  the 
school ;  their  expectations  on  this  head  being  altogether 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  21 

unreasonable,  and  such  as  the  school  cannot  possibly 
answer.  That,  say  what  you  please,  is  the  plain  English 
of  the  matter ;  and  it  may  as  well  be  spoken. 

I  repeat  that,  with  very  few  exceptions,  and  those  mostly 
applicable  to  girls,  the  most  and  the  best  that  the  school  5 
can  do,  or  can  reasonably  be  expected  to  do,  is  to  educate 
the  mind  and  the  heart ;  as  for  the  education  of  their  chil- 
dren's hands,  parents  must,  yes,  must  look  for  this  else- 
where :  probably  their  best  way  is  to  take  it  into  their  own 
immediate  care,  and  hold  themselves  religiously  bound  to  10 
attend  to  it.  Possibly,  withal,  some  parents,  as  also  some 
who  drive  the  trade  of  idealizing  about  education,  may 
need  to  be  taught,  or  warned,  that  unless  the  school  have 
something  ready  made  to  its  hand,  unless  the  pupil  bring 
to  it  something  inside  his  skull,  it  cannot  educate  his  mind  :  15 
brains  it  cannot  furnish ;  though  it  is  often  blamed  for 
not  doing  this  too.  And,  good  as  vocal  intelligence  may 
be,  yet,  for  all  practical  ends,  and  even  the  dignities,  of 
life,  manual  intelligence  is  vastly  better;  +  this  it  is  that 
makes  both  the  artist  and  the  artisan;  and  without  this  20 
the  former,  however  it  may  prattle  and  glitter,  can  neither 
plow  the  field  nor  reap  the  corn,  neither  tan  the  leather 
nor  make  the  shoe,  neither  shape  the  brick  nor  build  the 
wall,  neither  grind  the  flour  nor  bake  the  bread. 

But  I  suspect  our  American  parents  have  become  some-  25 
what  absurdly,  and  not  very  innocently,  ambitious  of  having 
their  boys  and  girls  all  educated  to  be  gentlemen  and 
ladies ;  +  which  is,  I  take  it,  the  same  in  effect  as  having 
them  educated  to  be  good  for  nothing ;  too  proud  or  too 
lazy  to  live  by  handwork,  while  they  are  nowise  qualified  30 
to  live  by  headwork,  nor  could  get  any  to  do,  if  they  were. 
And  so  they  insist  on  having  their  children  taught  how  to 


22  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

do  something,  perhaps  several  things,  without  ever  soiling 
their  fingers  by  actually  doing  anything.    If  they  would,  in 

.  all  meekness  and  simplicity  of  heart,  endeavor  to  educate 
their  children  to   be  good  for  something,  they  would  be 

5  infinitely  more  likely  to  overtake  the  aim  of  their  sinful 
and  stupid  ambition.  The  man  who  has  been  well  and 
rightly  educated  to  earn,  and  does  earn,  a  fair  living  by 
true  and  solid  service,  he  is  a  gentleman  in  the  only  sense 
in  which  it  is  not  both  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  be  called  by 

10  that  title.  Any  form  of  honest  service,  however  plain  and 
humble,  has  manliness  in  it,  and  is  therefore  a  higher  style 
of  gentility,  and  a  sounder  basis  of  self-respect,  than  any, 
even  the  proudest,  form  of  mere  social  ornamentation. 
The  dull  boy,  who  cannot  prate  science,  but  can  drive  a 

15  cart  as  a  cart  ought  to  be  driven,  or  the  dull  girl,  who  cannot 
finger  a  piano,  but  can  rightly  broil  a  beefsteak,  is,  in  the 
eye  of  all  true  taste,  a  far  more  sightly  and  attractive  object 
than  the  most  learned  and  accomplished  good-for-nothing 
in  the  world.    I  have  seen  men  calling  themselves  doctors, 

20  who,  week  after  week,  month  after  month,  year  after  year, 
were  going  about  making  sham  calls  on  bogus  patients, 
that  so  they  might  either  get  themselves  a  practice  or 
make  men  believe  they  had  got  one  ;  and  have  thought 
that   the   poorest  drudge,  who  honestly  ate  his  bread,  or 

25  what  little  he  could  get,  in  the  sweat  of  his  face,  was  a 
prince  in  comparison  with  them.  An  aristocratic  idler  or 
trifler  or  spendthrift  or  clothes  frame,  however  strong  he 
may  smell  of  the  school  and  the  college,  of  books  and  of 
lingual  culture,  is  no  better  than  a  vulgar  illiterate  loafer  ; 

30  nor  can  his  smart  clothes  and  his  perfumes  and  his  lily 
hands  and  his  fashionable  airs  shield  him  from  the  just 
contempt  of  thoughtful  men  and  sensible  women. 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  23 

Now,  so  long  as  people  proceed  upon  the  notion  that  their 
children's  main  business  in  this  world  is  to  shine,  and  not 
to  work,  and  that  the  school  has  it  in  special  charge  to  fit 
them  out  at  all  points  for  a  self-supporting  and  reputable 
career  in  life  ;  just  so  long  they  will  continue  to  expect  and  5 
demand  of  the  school  that  which  the  school  cannot  give  ; 
to  grumble  and  find  fault  because  it  fails  to  do  what  they 
wish  ;  and  to  insist  on  having  its  methods  changed  till  their 
preposterous  demands  are  satisfied.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  school  could  do  its  proper  work  much  better,  if  people  10 
would  but  come  down,  or  rather  come  up,  to  a  just  concep- 
tion of  what  that  work  is.  But  it  must  needs  fail,  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  to  do  that  part  of  education  which  falls  within 
its  legitimate  province,  while  struggling  and  beating  about 
in  a  vain  endeavor  to  combine  this  with  that  part  which  15 
fairly  lies  outside  of  its  province.  For,  in  straining  to  hit 
the  impossible,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  miss  the  possible.  And 
all  experienced  teachers  know  right  well  that  those  parents 
who  faithfully  do  their  own  part  in  the  education  of  their 
children  are  most  apt  to  be  satisfied  with  what  the  school  20 
is  doing. 

It  is,  then,  desirable  that  children  should  learn  to  think, 
but  it  is  indispensable  that  they  should  learn  to  work ;  and 
I  believe  it  is  possible  for  a  large,  perhaps  the  larger,  portion 
of  them  to  be  so  educated  as  to  find  pleasure  in  both.  But  25 
the  great  question  is,  how  to  render  the  desirable  thing 
and  the  indispensable  thing  mutually  helpful  and  supple- 
mentary. For,  surely,  the  two  parts  of  education,  the  edu- 
cation of  the  mind  and  the  education  of  the  hand,  though 
quite  distinct  in  idea,  and  separate  in  act,  are  not,  or  need  30 
not  be,  at  all  antagonistic. +  On  the  contrary,  the  school 
can,  and  should,  so  do  its  part  as  to  cooperate  with  and 


24  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

further  that  part  which  lies  beyond  its  province.  And  it  is 
both  the  office  and  the  aim  of  a  wise  benevolence  in  teachers 
so  to  deal  with  the  boys  under  their  care  as  to  make  them, 
if  possible,  intelligent,  thoughtful,  sober-minded  men,  with 
5  hearts  set  and  tuned  to  such  services  and  such  pleasures  as 
reason  and  religion  approve ;  also,  to  make  them  prudent, 
upright,  patriotic  citizens,  with  heads  so  stocked  and  tem- 
pered as  not  to  be  "  cajoled  and  driven  about  in  herds  "  by 
greedy,  ambitious,  unprincipled  demagogues,  and  the  polit- 
ics ical  gamesters  of  the  day.  And  here  it  is  to  be  noted,  withal, 
that  any  man  who  gains  an  honest  living  for  himself,  whether 
lettered  or  unlettered,  is  a  good  citizen  in  the  right  sense  of 
the  term ;  and  that  human  slugs  and  do-nothings,  however 
book-learned  they  may  be,  are  not  good  citizens. 
1 5  As  for  the  women,  let  it  suffice  that  their  rights  and  inter- 
ests in  this  matter  are  coordinate  with  those  of  the  men ; 
just  that,  and  no  more.  Their  main  business,  also,  is  to  get 
an  honest  living.  And  the  education  that  unprepares  them 
or  leaves  them  unprepared  for  this  is  the  height  of  folly  and 
20  of  wrong.  And  I  hope  the  most  of  them  are  not  going  to 
turn  students  or  authors  by  profession,  nor  to  aim  at  eating 
their  bread  in  the  sweat  of  the  brain.  For  things  have 
already  come  to  that  pass  with  us,  that  any  fool  can  write  a 
book :  the  great  difficulty  is  in  finding  people  who  know 
25  enough  and  have  strength  enough  not  to  attempt  it. 

And  here  let  me  say  that  the  greatest  institution  in  the 
world  is  the  family  ;+  worth  all  the  others  put  together,  and 
the  foundation  of  them  all.  So,  again,  the  greatest  art  known 
among  men  is  housekeeping,  which  is  the  life  of  the  family. 
30  For  what  are  we  poor  mortals  good  for,  in  head,  heart,  hand, 
or  anything  else,  without  healthy,  eupeptic  stomachs?  and 
how  are  we  to  have  such  stomachs  without  good  cooking? 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  25 

So  that  I  reckon  housekeeping  to  be  just  the  last  thing  that 
any  lady  can  afford  to  be  ignorant  of.  The  finest  accom- 
plishment too  that  woman  was  ever  beautified  with.  This 
part  of  woman's  education,  also,  is  to  be  gained  at  home  ; 
it  cannot  be  gained  anywhere  else.  As  for  those  young  5 
ladies  who  are  above  going  into  the  kitchen,  and  learning 
this  great  art  by  actually  working  at  it,  my  advice  is,  that 
they  forthwith  migrate  to  a  world  where  the  home  and  the 
family  have  no  place,  and  where  babies  are  not  to  be  born 
and  nursed.  10 

Our  girls  in  school,  then,  should,  first  of  all,  be  fashioned 
for  intelligent,  thoughtful,  sober-minded  women ;  +  with 
souls  attempered  and  attuned  to  the  honest  and  ennobling 
delectations  of  the  fireside  ;  their  heads  furnished  and  dis- 
posed to  be  prudent,  skillful,  dutiful  wives  and  mothers  and  15 
housekeepers  ;  home-loving  and  home-staying  ;  formed  for 
steady  loves,  serene  attachments,  quiet  virtues,  and  the 
whole  flock  of  household  pieties ;  all  suited  to  the  office  of 

A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 

For  human  nature's  daily  food.  20 

The  love  of  home,  and  the  art  of  making  home  lovely,  must 
be  mainly  acquired  in  the  works  and  enjoyments  of  home  ; 
and  the  best  thing  that  the  school  can  do  is  to  cooperate 
with  the  home  to  that  end. 

But  the  most  important  item  in  this  account,  and  that  25 
which  is  the  main  subject  of  what  I  have  to  say,  is  yet  to 
come. 

We  have  reached  a  stage  of  civilization  and  general  cul- 
ture in  which  both  the  virtue  and  the  happiness  of  people 
depend  very  much  on  their  intellectual  forming  and  furnish-  30 
ing.    And  as  this  holds  true  alike  of  both  sexes,  so  both  will 


26  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

be  included  alike  in  the  scope  of  what  I  have  in  mind  to 
speak  further.  Books,  of  one  sort  or  another,  are  now,  on 
every  hand,  a  common  resort  for  entertainment  and  pleas- 
ure, and  are  likely  to  become  more  and  more  so.  Wealth 
5  has  greatly  accumulated  ;  machinery  has  come  to  do  a  large 
part  of  our  work  ;  and  all  sorts  of  people  have  more  or  less 
of  leisure  on  their  hands.  This  leisure  ought  not  to  be  spent 
in  idleness,  neither  will  it  be.+  In  the  vacancy  of  their 
hands  people's  thoughts  will  needs  be  busy  either  for  the 

10  better  or  for  the  worse  :  if  their  minds  are  not  dressed  for 
the  abode  of  the  Deity,  they  will  be  workshops  of  the  Devil. 
And  reading  does  in  fact  bear  a  large  part  in  filling  up  such 
vacant  time. 

Now,  the  world  is  getting  full  of  devils,  very  potent  ones 

15  too,  in  the  shape  of  foolish  and  bad  books.  And  I  am  apt 
to  think  the  foolish  devils  in  that  shape  even  worse  than 
the  wicked  :  for  they  only  begin  the  work  of  evil  somewhat 
further  off,  so  as  to  come  at  it  the  more  surely  ;  and  a  slow 
creeping  infection  is  more  dangerous  than  a  frank  assault. 

20  Nothing  so  bad  here  as  that  which  eludes  or  seduces  the 
moral  sentinels  of  the  heart.  I  am  not  exactly  a  believer  in 
the  old  doctrine  of  total  depravity ;  but  I  fear  it  must  be 
confessed  that  the  greater  number  of  people  take  much 
more  readily  to  that  which  is  false  and  bad  than  to  that 

25  which  is  good  and  true.  Certainly  what  intoxicates  and 
lowers  stands  a  better  chance  with  them  than  what  sobers 
and  elevates.  Virtue  and  wisdom  are  an  uphill  road,  where 
they  do  not  advance  without  some  effort ;  folly  and  vice  a 
downhill  path,  where  it  requires  some  effort  not  to  advance. 

30  And  this  is  quite  as  true  in  intellectual  matters  as  in  moral.4" 
Here,  to  most  people,  delight  in  what  is  false  and  bad  comes 
spontaneously  ;  delight  in  what  is  true  and  good  is  the  slow 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  27 

result  of  discipline  and  care,  and  grows  by  postponement  of 
impulse  to  law. 

I  suspect  it  has  been  taken  for  granted  much  too  gener- 
ally, that  if  people  know  how  to  read  they  will  be  apt  enough 
to  make  good  use  of  that  knowledge  without  further  con-  5 
cern.+  A  very  great  mistake  !  This  faculty  is  quite  as  liable 
to  abuse  as  any  other  :  probably  there  is  none  other  more 
sadly  abused  at  this  very  time  ;  none  that  needs  to  be  more 
carefully  fenced  about  with  the  safeguards  of  judgment  and 
taste.  Through  this  faculty  crowds  of  our  young  people  are  10 
let  into  the  society  of  such  things  as  can  only  degrade  and 
corrupt,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  are  positively  drawn  away 
from  the  fellowship  of  such  as  would  elevate  and  correct. 
Most,  probably  not  less  than  seven  eighths,  of  the  books  now 
read  are  simply  a  discipline  of  debasement ;  ministering  15 
fierce  stimulants  and  provocatives  to  the  lower  propensities, 
and  habituating  the  thoughts  to  the  mud  and  slime  of  literary 
cesspools  and  slop-cooks. 

I  have  indeed  no  faith  in  the  policy  or  the  efficacy  of 
attempting  to  squelch  these  springs  of  evil  by  forcible  20 
sequestration,  or  to  keep  people  from  eating  this  poor  devil- 
soup  by  muzzling  them.  If  they  will  take  to  it,  probably  the 
best  way  is  to  let  them  have  it ;  perhaps  it  is  best  to  act 
somewhat  on  the  plan  of  glutting  them  with  it,  in  the  hope 
that  so  they  may  outgrow  it :  but  something  might  well  be  25 
essayed  so  to  fit  and  prepare  them  as  that  they  may  not 
take  to  it,  and  may  even  turn  away  from  it  with  disgust  when 
it  comes  to  them.  Surely,  at  all  events,  the  education  that 
delivers  people  over  to  such  feeding  is  a  very  doubtful  good. 

In  view  of  all  which,  it  is  clearly  of  the  highest  conse-  30 
quence,  that  from  their  early  youth  people  should  have  their 
minds  so  bent  and  disposed  as  to  find  pleasure  in  such 


28  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

books  as  are  adapted  to  purify  and  raise.  I  say  pleasure, 
because  we  cannot  rely,  neither  ought  we,  on  arguments  of 
right  in  this  matter.4"  Reading  even  good  books  without 
pleasure,  and  merely  from  a  sense  of  duty,  is  of  little  benefit, 

5  and  may  even  do  hurt,  by  breeding  insensibly  an  aversion 
to  what  is  good,  and  by  investing  it  with  irksome  associations. 
A  genial  delight  in  that  which  is  good  is  what  sets  the  colors 
of  it  in  the  mind  :  without  this,  the  mind  grows  at  odds  with 
it.    People  cannot  be  droned  or  bored  into  virtue ;  and  if 

10  evil  were  made  as  tedious  to  them  as  good  often  is,  I  suspect 
their  hearts  would  soon  be  weaned  from  ugliness,  and  won 
to  a  marriage  with  beauty.  And  the  pith  of  my  argument 
is,  that  it  is  what  people  take  pleasure  in  that  really  shapes 
and  determines  their  characters.    So  experience  has  taught 

1 5  me  that  the  characters  of  students  in  college  are  influenced 
far.  more  by  their  reading  than  by  their  studies.  From  the 
books  they  take  to  you  may  judge  at  once  whither  their 
spirits  are  tending,  and  what  they  are  inwardly  made  of, 
because  here  they  generally  go  by  free  choice  and  pleasure. 

20  In  brief,  they  study  what  they  must ;  they  read  what  they 
love  ;  and  their  souls  are  and  will  be  in  the  keeping  of  their 
loves.  Even  the  breath  of  excellence  is  apt  to  be  lost,  if  it 
be  not  waited  on  by  delight ;  while,  to  love  worthy  objects, 
and  in  a  worthy  manner,  is  the  top  and  crown  of  earthly 

25  good,  ay,  and  of  heavenly  good  also.  Considering  how  clear 
and  evident  all  this  is,  that  so  little  is  done,  even  in  our  highest 
seats  of  learning,  to  form  the  tastes  and  guide  the  reading 
of  students,  may  well  be  matter  of  grief  and  astonishment. 
I  have  long  wondered  at  it,  and  often  sickened  over  it. 

30  Now,  to  fence  against  the  growing  pestilence  of  foolish 
and  bad  books,  I  know  of  but  one  way ;  and  that  is  by 
endeavoring  systematically  so  to  familiarize  the  young  with 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  29 

the  best  and  purest  mental  preparations,  and  so  to  prepossess 
them  with  the  culture  of  that  which  is  wholesome  and  good, 
that  they  may  have  an  honest,  hearty  relish  for  it.  The  thing 
is,  to  plant  the  mind  full  of  such  loves,  and  so  to  set  and 
form  the  intellectual  tastes  and  habits,  that  the  vicious  and  5 
false  will  be  spontaneously  refused,  and  the  healthy  and  true 
be  freely  preferred  ;  +  this  too,  not  from  any  novelty  in  it, 
but  for  the  experienced  sweetness  and  beauty  of  it,  and  for 
the  quiet  joy  that  goes  in  company  with  it. 

Let  the  efficacy  of  a  very  few  good  books  be  seasonably  10 
steeped  into  the  mind,  and  then,  in  the   matter  of  their 
reading,  people  will  be  apt  to  go  right  of  their  own  accord  ; 
and  assuredly  they  will  never  be  got  to  go  right  except  of 
their  own  accord.    You  may  thus  hope  to  predispose  and 
attune  the  faculties  of  choice  to  what  is  noble  and  sweet,  15 
before  the  springs  of  choice  are  vitiated  by  evil  or  ignorant 
conversations.    If  people  have  their  tastes  set  betimes  to 
such  authors  as  Spenser  and  Shakespeare,  Addison,  Scott, 
Wordsworth,  and  Charles  Lamb,  is  it  likely  that  they  will 
stomach  such  foul  stuff  as  the  literary  slums  and  grogshops  20 
of  the  day  are  teeming  with?+    I  hope  it  is  not  so,  and  I 
will  not  readily  believe  it  can  be  so.    Nor  can  I  see  any 
impracticability,  any  insuperable  difficulty  here.    Instances 
of  native  dullness  or  perversity  there  will  indeed  be,  such  as 
no  soul  music  can  penetrate :  but  that,  as  a  general  thing,  25 
young  minds,  yet  undeflowered  by  the  sensational  flash  and 
fury  of  vulgar  bookmakers,  will  be  found  proof  against  the 
might  and  sweetness  of  that  which  is  intellectually  beautiful 
and  good,  provided  they  be  held  in  communication  with  it 
long  enough  for  its  virtue  to  penetrate  them,  is  what  I  will  30 
not,  must  not,  believe,  without  a  fairer  trial  than  has  yet 
been  made. 


30 


HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 


In  reference  to  the  foregoing  points,  a  well-chosen  and 
well-used  course  of  study  in  the  best  English  classics  seems 
the  most  eligible  and  most  effective  preparation.  Whether 
to  the  ends  of  practical  use  or  of  rational  pleasure,  this  can- 

5  not  but  be  the  right  line  of  early  mental  culture.  The  direct 
aids  and  inspirations  of  religion  excepted,  what  better  nurs- 
ery can  there  be  of  just  thoughts  and  healthy  tastes?"*" 
what  more  apt  to  train  and  feed  the  mind  for  the  common 
duties,  interests,  affections,  and  enjoyments  of  life?    For 

10  the  very  process  here  stands  in  framing  and  disposing  the 
mind  for  intercourse  with  the  sayings  of  the  wise,  with  the 
gathered  treasures  of  light  and  joy,  and  with  the  meanings 
and  beauties  of  Nature  as  seen  by  the  eye,  and  interpreted 
by  the  pen,  of  genius  and  wisdom. 

15  We  are  getting  sadly  estranged  from  right  ideas  as  to  the 
nature  and  scope  of  literary  workmanship.  For  literature, 
in  its  proper  character,  is  nowise  a  something  standing  out- 
side of  and  apart  from  the  practical  service  of  life ;  a 
sort  of  moonshine  world,  where  the  working  understanding 

20  sleeps  for  the  idle  fancy  to  dream.  This  is  no  doubt  true 
in  regard  to  most  of  the  books  now  read  ;  which  are  indeed 
no  books,  but  mere  devils  and  dunces  in  books'  clothing ; 
but  it  is  not  at  all  true  of  books  that  are  books  indeed. 
These  draw  right   into  the  substance  and  pith  of  actual 

25  things  ;  the  matter  of  them  is  "  labor 'd  and  distill'd  through 
all  the  needful  uses  of  our  lives  "  ;  the  soul  of  their  pur- 
pose is  to  arm  and  strengthen  the  head,  and  to  inspire  and 
direct  the  hand,  for  productive  work.  That  an  author  brings 
us  face  to  face  with  real  men  and  things,  and  helps  us  to 

30  see  them  as  they  are  ;  that  he  furnishes  us  with  enable- 
ments for  conversing  rationally,  and  for  wrestling  effect- 
ively, with  the  problems  of  living,  operative  truth;  that  he 


ENGLISH    IN    SCHOOLS 


31 


ministers  guidance  and  support  for  thinking  nobly  and  work- 
ing bravely  in  the  services,  through  the  perils,  under  the  diffi- 
culties and  adversities  of  our  state,  —  this  is  the  test  and 
measure  of  his  worth  ;  this  is  the  sole  basis  of  his  claim  to 
rank  as  a  classic. +  This,  to  be  sure,  is  not  always  done  5 
directly,  neither  ought  it  to  be ;  for  the  helps  that  touch 
our  uses  more  or  less  indirectly  often  serve  us  best,  because 
they  call  for  and  naturally  prompt  our  own  mental  and 
moral  cooperation  in  turning  them  to  practical  account. 

It  is  such  literature  that  the  poet  has  in  view  when  he  10 
tells  us,  — 

books,  we  know, 
Are  a  substantial  world,  both  pure  and  good  : 
Round  these,  with  tendrils  strong  as  flesh  and  blood, 
Our  pastime  and  our  happiness  will  grow.  15 

And  books  are  yours, 
Within  whose  silent  chambers  treasure  lies 
Preserved  from  age  to  age  ;  more  precious  far 
Than  that  accumulated  store  of  gold 

And  orient  gems  which,  for  a  day  of  need,  20 

The  Sultan  hides  deep  in  ancestral  tombs  : 
These  hoards  you  can  unlock  at  will. 

Nor  is  it  the  least  benefit  of  such  authors  that  they  recon- 
cile and  combine  utility  with  pleasure,  making  each  minis- 
trative  to  the  other  ;+  so  that  the  grace  of  pleasant  thoughts  25 
becomes  the  sweeter  for  their  usefulness,  and  the  virtue  of 
working  thoughts  the  more  telling  for  their  pleasantness  ; 
the  two  thus  pulling  and  rejoicing  together.  For  so  the 
right  order  of  mental  action  is  where  delight  pays  tribute  to 
use,  and  use  to  delight ;  and  there  is  no  worse  corruption  30 
of  literature  in  the  long  run  than  where  these  are  divorced, 
and  made  to  pull  in  different  lines.  Such  pleasure  is  itself 
uplifting,  because  it  goes  hand  in  hand  with  duty.    And  as 


32 


HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 


life,  with  its  inevitable  wants  and  cares  and  toils,  is  apt  to 
be  hard  enough  at  the  best  with  most  of  us,  there  is  need 
of  all  the  assuagements  and  alleviations  that  can  come  from 
this  harmonizing  process.  Pressed  as  we  are  with  heavy 
5  laws,  happy  indeed  is  he 

Who  from  the  wellspring  of  his  own  clear  breast 
Can  draw,  and  sing  his  griefs  to  rest. 

Next  to  a  good  conscience  and  the  aids  of  Christian  faith, 
there  is  no  stronger  support  under  the  burdens  of  our  lot 

10  than  the  companionship  of  such  refreshing  and  soul-lifting 
thoughts  as  spring  up  by  the  wayside  of  duty,  from  our 
being  at  home  with  the  approved  interpreters  of  Nature 
and  Truth.  This  is  indeed  to  carry  with  us  in  our  working 
hours  a  power 

15  That  beautifies  the  fairest  shore, 

And  mitigates  the  harshest  clime. 

Now  I  do  not  like  to  hear  it  said  that  our  school  education 
can  do  nothing  towards  this  result.  I  believe,  nay,  I  am 
sure,  it  can  do  much  ;  though  I  have  to  admit  that  it  has 

20  done  and  is  doing  far  less  than  it  might.  I  fear  it  may  even 
be  said  that  our  course  is  rather  operating  as  a  hindrance 
than  as  a  help  in  this  respect.  What  sort  of  reading  are  our 
schools  planting  an  appetite  for  ?  Are  they  really  doing  any- 
thing to  instruct  and  form  the  mental  taste,  so  that  the  pupils 

25  on  leaving  them  may  be  safely  left  to  choose  their  reading 
for  themselves?  It  is  clear  in  evidence  that  they  are  far  from 
educating  the  young  to  take  pleasure  in  what  is  intellectually 
noble  and  sweet.  The  statistics  of  our  public  libraries  show 
that  some  cause  is  working  mightily  to  prepare  them  only 

30  for  delight  in  what  is  both  morally  and  intellectually  mean 
and  foul.+    It  would  not  indeed  be  fair  to  charge  our  public 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  33 

schools  with  positively  giving  this  preparation  ;  but  it  is  their 
business  to  forestall  and  prevent  such  a  result.  If,  along 
with  the  faculty  of  reading,  they  cannot  also  impart  some 
safeguards  of  taste  and  habit  against  such  a  result,  will  the 
system  prove  a  success?  5 

As  things  now  go,  English  literature  is  postponed  to  almost 
everything  else  in  our  public  schools  :  much  as  ever  it  can 
gain  admission  at  all ;  and  the  most  that  can  be  got  for  it  is 
merely  such  fag-ends  of  time  as  may  possibly  be  spared  from 
other  studies.  We  think  it  a  fine  thing  to  have  our  children  10 
studying  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  ;  but  do  not  mind  having 
them  left  almost  totally  ignorant  of  Burke  and  Webster.  Yet, 
in  the  matter  of  practical  learning,  ay,  and  of  liberal  learning 
too,  for  deep  and  comprehensive  eloquence,  for  instruction 
in  statesmanship,  and  in  the  principles  of  civil  order  and  15 
social  well-being,  Burke  alone  is  worth  more  than  all  the 
oratory  of  Greece  and  Rome  put  together ;+  albeit  I  am 
far  from  meaning  to  disrepute  the  latter.  And  a  few  of 
Webster's  speeches,  besides  their  treasure  of  noble  English, 
—  "a  manly  style  fitted  to  manly  ears,"  —  have  in  them  20 
more  that  would  come  home  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of 
our  best  American  intelligence,  more  that  is  suited  to  the 
ends  of  a  well-instructed  patriotism,  than  all  that  we  have 
inherited  from  the  lips  of  ancient  orators.* 

So,  again,  we  spare  no  cost  to  have  our  children  delving  25 
in  the  suburbs  and  outskirts  of  Homer  and  Virgil ;  for  not 
one  in  fifty  of  them  ever  gets  beyond  these ;  yet  we  take 
no  pains  to  have  them  living  in  the  heart  of  Shakespeare 
and  Wordsworth  :  while  there  is  in  Shakespeare  a  richer 
fund  of  "sweetness  and  light,"  more  and  better  food  for  30 
the  intellectual  soul,  a  larger  provision  of  such  thoughts  as 
should  dwell  together  with  the   spirit  of  a  man,  and  be 


34  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

twisted  about  his  heart  forever,  than  in  the  collective  poetry 
of  the  whole  ancient  heathen  world. 

It  may  indeed  be  said  that  these  treasures  are  in  a  lan- 
guage already  known,  and  so  are  accessible  to  people  with- 
5  out  any  special  preparation  ;  and  that  the  school  is  meant 
to  furnish  the  keys  to  such  wealth  as  would  else  be  locked 
up  from  them.  But  our  public  schools  leave  the  pupils  with- 
out any  taste  for  those  native  treasures,  or  any  aptitude  to 
enjoy  them  :  the  course  there  pursued  does  almost  nothing 

10  to  fit  and  dispose  the  pupils  for  communing  with  the  wis- 
dom and  beauty  enshrined  in  our  mother  tongue ;  while 
hardly  any  so  master  the  Greek  and  Latin  as  to  hold  com- 
munion with  the  intellectual  virtue  which  they  enshrine. 
Few,  very  few,  after  all,  can  be  trained  to  love  Homer ; 

15  while  there  are,  I  must  think,  comparatively  few  who  can- 
not be  trained  to  love  Shakespeare ;  +  and  the  main  thing 
is  to  plant  that  love.  The  point,  then,  is  just  here  :  Our 
schools  are  neither  giving  the  pupils  the  key  to  the  wisdom 
of  Homer,  nor  disposing  them  to  use  the  key  to  the  wisdom 

20  of  Shakespeare.  And  so  the  result  is  that,  instead  of  bath- 
ing in  the  deep,  clear  streams  of  thought,  ancient  or  modern, 
they  have  no  taste  but  for  waddling  or  wallowing  in  the 
shallow,  turbid  puddles  of  the  time  ;  — 

Best  pleased  with  what  is  aptliest  framed 
25  To  enervate  and  defile. 

It  is  a  notorious  fact  that  among  our  highly  educated 
people,  the  graduates  of  our  colleges,  really  good  English 
scholars  are  extremely  rare.  I  suspect  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  among  our  instructors  there  are  at  least  twenty 
30  competent  to  teach  Greek  and  Latin,  where  there  is  one 
competent  to  teach  English  literature."1"  Very  few  indeed 
of  them  are  really  at   home  in   the  great  masters  of  our 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  35 

native  tongue,  so  as  to  make  them  matter  of  fruitful  exer- 
cise in  the  class  room.  They  know  not  how  to  come  at 
them,  or  to  shape  their  course  in  teaching  them.  Their 
minds  are  so  engrossed  with  the  verbal  part  of  learning, 
that,  unless  they  have  a  husk  of  words  to  stick  in,  as  in  5 
studying  a  foreign  tongue,  they  can  hardly  find  where  to 
stick  at  all. 

This  habit,  I  suppose,  comes  mainly  as  a  tradition  from  a 
former  age  ;  a  habit  which,  though  begun  upon  good  causes, 
has  been  kept  up  long  after  those  causes  were  done  away.  10 
The  prevailing  ideas  herein  got  fixed  at  a  time  when  there 
was  no  well-formed  English  literature  in  being ;  when  the 
language  itself  was  raw  and  rude ;  and  when  the  world's 
whole  stock  of  intellectual  wealth  was  enshrined  in  other 
tongues.  The  custom  thus  settled  from  necessity  is  contin-  15 
ued  to  this  day,  when  the  English  tongue,  besides  its  own 
vast  fund  of  original  treasure,  has  had  the  blood  of  all  the 
best  human  thought  transfused  into  its  veins,  and  when  its 
walks  have  grown  rich  and  delectable  with  the  spoils  of  every 
earlier  fruitage  of  genius  and  learning.  20 

Three  centuries  ago  Chaucer  was  the  only  really  good  Eng- 
lish author ;  he  was  then  two  hundred  years  old ;  and  the 
language  had  changed  so  much  since  his  time  that  reading 
him  was  almost  like  studying  a  foreign  tongue.  So  much 
was  this  the  case,  that  Bacon  thought  the  English  was  going  25 
to  bankrupt  all  books  intrusted  to  its  keeping  :  he  therefore 
took  care  to  have  most  of  his  own  works  translated  into% 
Latin  ;  and  now  our  greatest  regret  touching  him  is,  that  we 
have  not  all  those  works  in  his  own  noble  English.  Before 
his  time,  the  language  changed  more  in  fifty  years  than  it  has  30 
done  in  all  the  three  hundred  years  since.  This  is  no  doubt 
because  the  mighty  workmen  of  that  age,  himself  among 


36  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

them,  did  so  much  to  "  bolt  off  change,"  by  the  vast  treasures 
of  thought  and  wisdom  which  they  found  or  made  the  lan- 
guage capable  of  expressing.  The  work  then  so  gloriously 
begun  has  been  going  on  ever  since,  though  not  always  with 
5  the  same  grand  results;  until  now  the  English  is  commonly 
held  to  be  one  of  the  richest  and  noblest  tongues  ever 
spoken,  and  the  English  literature  is,  in  compass  and  variety 
of  intellectual  wealth,  unsurpassed  by  any  in  the  world. 
How  strange  it  is,  then,  that,  with  such  immense  riches  at 

10  hand  in  our  vernacular,  we  should  so  much  postpone  them 
to  the  springs  that  were  resorted  to  before  those  riches  grew 
into  being  !  +  Because  Homer  and  Sophocles  had  to  be 
studied  before  Shakespeare  wrote,  why  should  Shakespeare 
still  be  ignored  in  our  liberal  education,  when  his  mighty 

15  works  have  dwarfed  Homer  and  Sophocles  into  infants? 
There  might  indeed  be  some  reason  in  this,  if  he  had  been 
in  any  sort  the  offspring  of  those  Greek  masters  :  but  he  was 
blessedly  ignorant  of  them  ;  which  may  partly  account  for  his 
having  so  much  surpassed  them.    He  did  not  conceive  him- 

20  self  bound  to  think  and  write  as  they  did ;  and  this  seems 
to  have  been  one  cause  why  he  thought  and  wrote  better 
than  they  did.  I  really  can  see  no  reason  for  insisting  on 
learning  from  them  rather  than  from  him,  except  that 
learning  from  him  is  vastly  easier. 

25  Nevertheless  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  the  Greek  and 
Latin  ought  to  be  disused  or  made  little  of  in  our  course  of 
liberal  learning."1"  On  the  contrary,  I  would,  of  the  two,  have 
them  studied  in  college  even  more  thoroughly  than  they 
commonly  are  ;  and  this,  not  only  because  of  their  unequaled 

30  use  in  mental  training  and  discipline,  and  as  a  preparation 
for  solid  merit  and  success  in  the  learned  professions,  but 
also  because  a  knowledge  of  them  is  so  largely  fundamental 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  37 

to  a  practical  mastery  of  our  own  tongue.  And  here  I  am 
moved  to  note  what  seems  to  me  a  change  for  the  worse 
within  the  last  forty  years.  Forty  years  ago,  besides  that  the 
Greek  and  Latin  were  made  more  of  in  college,  at  least 
relatively,  than  they  are  now,  the  students  had  both  more  5 
time  for  English  studies,  and  also  more  of  judicious  prompt- 
ing and  guidance  in  their  reading.  But,  of  late,  there  has 
been  so  much  crowding  in  of  modern  languages  and  recent 
branches  of  science,  that  students  have  a  good  deal  less  time 
than  formerly  for  cultivating  English  literature  by  themselves.  10 
In  short,  our  colleges,  it  seems  to  me,  did  much  more,  forty 
years  ago,  towards  setting  and  forming  right  literary  and 
intellectual  tastes  than  they  are  doing  now.  I  believe  they 
are  now  turning  out  fewer  English  scholars,  and  that  these 
are  not  so  well  grounded  and  cultured  in  the  riches  of  our  15 
native  tongue.  The  fashion  indeed  has  been  growing  upon 
us  of  educating  the  mouth  much  more  than  the  mind  ;  which 
seems  to  be  one  cause  why  we  are  having  so  many  more 
talkers  and  writers  than  thinkers. +  An  unappeasable  itch  of 
popularity  is  eating  out  the  old  love  of  solid  learning,  and  20 
the  old  relish  for  the  haunts  of  the  Muses. 

It  may  have  been  observed,  that  in  this  argument  I  dis- 
tinguish somewhat  broadly  between  a  liberal  and  a  practical 
education.  Our  colleges  ought  to  give,  and,  I  suppose,  aim 
at  giving  the  former ;  while  the  latter  is  all  that  our  public  25 
schools  can  justly  be  expected  to  give.  And  a  large  majority 
of  the  pupils,  as  I  said  before,  are  to  gain  their  living 
by  handwork,  not  by  headwork.  But  then  we  want  them 
made  capable  of  solid  profit  and  of  honest  delight  in  the 
conversation  of  books  ;  for  this,  as  things  now  are,  is  essen-  30 
tial  both  to  their  moral  health  and  also  to  their  highest 
success  in  work  ;  to  say  nothing  of  their  duties  and  interests 

12534(1 


38  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

as  citizens  of  a  republican  State.  And,  to  this  end,  what  can 
be  more  practical,  in  the  just  sense  of  the  term,  than  planting 
and  nursing  in  them  right  intellectual  tastes,  so  that  their 
reading  shall  take  to  such  books  as  are  really  wholesome  and 
5  improving? 

On  the  general  subject,  however,  I  have  to  remark  further, 
that  our  education,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  greatly  overworking 
the  study  of  language,  especially  in  the  modern  languages. 
From  the  way  our  young  people  are  hurried  into  French 

10  and  German,  one  would  suppose  there  were  no  English 
authors  worth  knowing,  nor  any  thought  in  the  English  tongue 
worth  learning.  So  we  cram  them  with  words,  and  educate 
them  into  ignorance  of  things,  and  then  exult  in  their  being 
able  to  "  speak  no  sense  in  several  languages."    Surely  a 

15  portion  of  the  time  might  be  as  innocently  spent  in  learning 
something  worth  speaking  in  plain  mother  English.  When 
we  add  that,  with  all  this  wear  and  tear  of  brain,  the  pupils, 
ten  to  one,  stick  in  the  crust  of  words,  and  never  get  through 
into  the  marrow  of  thought,  so  as  to  be  at  home  in  it,  our 

20  course  can  hardly  be  deemed  the  perfection  of  wisdom. 

Our  custom  herein  seems  to  involve  some  flagrant  defect 
or  error  in  our  philosophy  of  education.  The  true  process 
of  education  is  to  set  and  keep  the  mind  in  living  inter- 
course with  things  :    the  works  and  ways  of  God  in  Nature 

25  are  our  true  educators.  And  the  right  office  of  language  is 
to  serve  as  the  medium  of  such  intercourse.  And  so  the 
secret  of  a  good  style  in  writing  is,  that  words  be  used  purely 
in  their  representative  character,  and  not  at  all  for  their  own 
sake.4"    This  is  well  illustrated  in  Shakespeare,  who  in  his 

30  earlier  plays  used  language  partly  for  its  own  sake  ;  but  in 
his  later  plays  all  traces  of  such  use  disappear :  here  he  uses 
it  purely  in  its  representative  character.    This  it  is,  in  great 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  39 

part,  that  makes  his  style  so  much  at  once  the  delight  and 
the  despair  of  those  who  now  undertake  to  write  the  English 
tongue.  And  in  other  writers  excellence  of  style  is  measured 
by  approximation  to  this  standard.  This  it  is  that  so  highly 
distinguishes  Webster's  style,  —  the  best  yet  written  on  this  5 
continent.  His  language  is  so  transparent,  that  in  reading 
him  one  seldom  thinks  of  it,  and  can  hardly  see  it.  In  fact, 
the  proper  character  of  his  style  is  perfect,  consummate 
manliness ;  in  which  quality  I  make  bold  to  affirm  that  he 
has  no  superior  in  the  whole  range  of  English  authorship.  10 
And  in  his  Autobiography  the  great  man  touches  the  secret 
as  to  how  this  came  about.  "While  in  college,"  says  he, 
"  I  delivered  two  or  three  occasional  addresses,  which  were 
published.  I  trust  they  are  forgotten  :  they  were  in  very  bad 
taste.  I  had  not  then  learned  that  all  true  power  in  writing  15 
is  in  the  idea,  not  in  the  style ;  an  error  into  which  the  Ars 
rhetorica,  as  it  is  usually  taught,  may  easily  lead  stronger 
heads  than  mine." 

Hence  it  follows  that  language  should  be  used  and  studied 
mainly  in  its  representative  character  ;  that  is,  as  a  medium  20 
for  conversing  with  things ;  and  that  studying  it  merely  or 
even   mainly  for  its  own  sake  is  a  plain  inversion  of  the 
right  order.    For  words  are  of  no  use  but  as  they  bring  us 
acquainted  with  the  facts,  objects,  and  relations  of  Nature 
in  the  world  about  us.    The  actual  things  and  ideas  which  25 
they  stand  for,  or  are  the  signs  of,  are  what  we  ought  to 
know  and  have  commerce  with.    In  our  vernacular,  words 
are,  for  the  most  part,  naturally  and  unconsciously  used  in 
this  way ;  except  where  a  perverse  system  has  got  us  into  a 
habit  of  using  them  for  their  own  sake  ;  which  is  indeed  the  30 
common  bane  of  American  authorship,  making  our  style  so 
intensely  self-conscious,  that  an  instructed  taste  soon  tires 


40  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

of  it.  But,  in  studying  a  foreign  tongue,  the  language  itself 
is  and  has  to  be  the  object  of  thought.  Probably  not  one  in 
fifty  of  our  college  graduates  learns  to  use  the  Greek  and 
Latin  freely  as  a  medium  of  converse  with  things.  Their 
5  whole  mental  force  is  spent  on  the  words  themselves ;  or,  if 
they  go  beyond  these  to  the  things  signified,  it  is  to  help 
their  understanding  of  the  words. 

I  freely  admit  that  language,  even  our  own,  ought  to  be, 
to  some  extent,  an  object  of  study ;  but  only  to  the  end 

10  of  perfecting  our  use  and  mastery  of  it  as  a  medium.  So 
that  the  true  end  of  mental  action  is  missed,  where  language 
is  advanced  into  an  ultimate  object  of  study  ;  which  is  prac- 
tically making  the  end  subordinate  to  the  means.  Here, 
however,  I  am  anxious  not  to  be  misunderstood,  and  lest  I 

15  may  seem  to  strain  the  point  too  far;  for  I  know  full  well 
that  in  such  a  cause  nothing  is  to  be  gained  by  breaches  of 
fairness  and  candor.  It  is  a  question  of  relative  measure 
and  proportion.  And  I  mean  that  our  education  treats  lan- 
guage quite  too  much  as  an  object  of  thought,  and  quite  too 

20  little  as  a  medium.  Our  students,  it  seems  to  me,  are  alto- 
gether too  much  brought  up  in  "  the  alms-basket  of  words  "  ; 
and  of  too  many  of  them  it  may  not  unfairly  be  said,  "  They 
have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages,  and  stolen  the 
scraps." 

25  I  have  said  that  our  custom  in  this  matter  stands  partly  as 
a  tradition  from  a  long-past  age  when  there  was  no  English 
literature  in  being.  But  this  does  not  wholly  explain  it.  The 
thing  proceeds  in  great  part  from  a  perverse  vanity  of  going 
abroad  and  sporting  foreign  gear,  unmindful  of  the  good 

30  that  lies  nearer  home.  Hence  boys  and  girls,  especially  the 
latter,  are  hurried  into  studying  foreign  languages  before 
they  have  learned  to  spell  correctly  or  to  read  intelligibly  in 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  41 

their  own.  I  say  girls  especially,  because,  since  the  women 
set  out  to  equal,  perhaps  to  eclipse,  the  men  in  brain  power, 
a  mighty  ambition  has  invaded  them  to  be  nourishing  their 
lingual  intellectuality  in  our  faces.  Besides,  the  fashion  now 
is  to  educate  young  women  for  any  place  rather  than  for  5 
home.  Most  of  them  hope  some  time  to  spend  six  months 
traveling  in  Europe  ;  and  they  think  far  more  of  preparing 
for  that  holiday  than  for  all  the  working-day  honors  and 
services  of  life.  And  I  fear  it  must  be  said  withal,  that  we 
are  the  most  apish  people  on  the  planet.  I  wish  we  may  10 
not  prove  "  the  servum pecus  of  a  Gallic  breed."  Be  that  as 
it  may,  parents  among  us  apparently  hold  it  a  much  grander 
thing  to  have  their  children  chopping  Racine  and  Voltaire 
than  conversing  with  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  beauty  in 
our  own  tongue  ;  as  if  smattering  French  words  were  better  15 
than  understanding  English  and  American  things. 

Thus  our  school  education  is  growing  to  be  very  much  a 
positive  dispreparation  for  the  proper  cares,  duties,  inter- 
ests, and  delectations  of  life.  The  further  a  thing  draws 
from  any  useful  service  or  common  occasion,  the  more  pride  20 
there  is  in  studying  it.  Whatever  will  serve  best  to  prank 
up  the  mind  for  flaunting  out  its  life  away  from  home,  that 
seems  to  be  our  first  concern.  To  this  end,  we  prefer  some- 
thing out  of  the  common  way;  something  that  can  be  turned 
to  no  account,  save  to  beguile  a  frivolous  and  fashionable  25 
leisure,  or  to  mark  people  off  from  ordinary  humanity,  and 
wrap  them  up  in  the  poor  conceit  of  an  aristocratic  style.  In 
short,  we  look  upon  the  honest  study  of  our  honest  mother 
English  as  a  vulgar  thing  ;  +  and  it  pleases  us  to  forget  that 
this  squeamish  turning  up  of  the  nose  at  what  is  near  and  30 
common  is  just  the  vulgarest  thing  in  the  world.  Surely 
we  cannot  too  soon  wake  up  to  the  plain  truth,  that  real 


42  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

honor  and  elevation,  as  well  as  solid  profit,  are  to  grow  by 
conversing  with  the  things  that  live  and  work  about  us,  and 
by  giving  our  studious  hours  to  those  masters  of  English 
thought  from  whom  we  may  learn  to  read,  soberly,  modestly, 
5  and  with  clear  intelligence,  a  few  pages  in  the  book  of  life. 
The  chief  argument  in  support  of  the  prevailing  custom 
is,  that  the  study  of  languages,  especially  the  Greek  and 
Latin,  is  highly  serviceable  as  a  mental  gymnastic.  No  doubt 
it  is  so.    But  the  study,  as  it  is  managed  with  us,  may  be 

io  not  unfairly  charged  with  inverting  the  true  relative  im- 
portance of  mental  gymnastic  and  mental  diet.  Formerly 
the  Greek  and  Latin  were  held  to  be  enough ;  but  now,  by 
adding  three  or  four  modern  languages,  we  are  making  the 
linguistic  element  altogether  too  prominent.    We  thus  give 

15  the  mind  little  time  for  feeding,  little  matter  to  feed  upon; 
and  so  keep  it  exercising  when  it  ought  to  be  feeding :  for 
so  the  study  of  words  has  much  exercise  and  little  food. 
Now,  such  an  excess  of  activity  is  not  favorable  to  healthy 
growth.    Substituting  stimulants  for  nourishment  is  as  bad 

20  for  the  mind  as  for  the  body.  Supply  the  mind  with  whole- 
some natural  food ;  do  all  you  can  to  tempt  and  awaken 
the  appetite  ;  and  then  trust  somewhat  to  Nature.  True, 
some  minds,  do  your  best,  will  not  eat ;  but,  if  they  do  not 
eat,  then  they  ought  not  to  act.    For  dullness,  let  me  tell 

25  you,  is  not  so  bad  as  disease ;  and,  from  straining  so  hard 
to  stimulate  and  force  the  mind  into  action  without  eating, 
nothing  but  disease  can  result.  Depend  upon  it,  there  is 
something  wrong  with  us  here  :  food  and  exercise  are  not 
rightly  proportioned  in  our  method.     In  keeping  the  young 

30  mind  so  much  on  a  stretch  of  activity,  as  if  the  mere  exer- 
cise of  its  powers  were  to  be  sought  for  its  own  sake,  we  are 
at  war  with  Nature.    And  a  feverish,  restless,  mischievous 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  43 

activity  of  mind  is  the  natural  consequence  of  such  a  course ; 
unless,  which  is  sometimes  the  case,  the  mental  forces  get 
dried  into  stiffness  from  mere  heat  of  gymnastic  stress. 

We  are  now  having  quite  too  much  of  this  diseased  men- 
tal activity.    Perhaps  our  greatest  danger  lies  in  a  want  of    5 
mental  repose.    The  chronic  nervous  intensity  thus  gener- 
ated is  eating  the  life  out  of  us,  and  crushing  the  nobler 
energies  of  duty  and  virtue,  ay,  and  of  sound  intelligence 
too.+     For,  while  we  are  thus  overworking  the  mind,  the 
muscular  and  nutritive  systems  of  course  suffer;  so  that,  10 
first  we  know,  the  mind  itself  gives  out ;  and  people  go 
foolish  or  crazy  from  having  been  educated  all  into  nerves. 
Composure  is  the  right  pulse  of  mental  health,  as  it  is  also 
of  moral;   and  "a  heart  that  watches  and  receives"  will 
gather  more  of  wisdom  than  a  head  perpetually  on  the  jump.  15 
We  need  "  the  harvest  of  a  quiet  eye,"  that  feeds  on  the 
proportions  of  Truth  as  she  beams  from  the  works  of  Nature 
and  from  the  pages  of  Nature's  high  priests.    But  now  we 
must  be  in  a  giddy  whirl  of  brain  excitement,  else  we  are 
miserable,  and  think  our  mental  faculties  are  in    peril  of  20 
stagnation.     Of   intellectual   athletes  we    have  more  than 
enough;  men,  and  women  too,  who  think  to  renovate  the 
world,  and  to  immortalize  themselves,  by  being  in  a  con- 
tinual rapture  and  tumult  of  brain  exercise ;  minds  hope- 
lessly disorbed  from  the  calmness  of  reason,  and  held  in  a  25 
fever  of  activity  from  sheer  lack  of  strength  to  sit  still.    It 
was  such  minds  that  Bacon  had  in  view  when  he  described 
man    in   a   certain   state  as  being   "  a  busy,  mischievous, 
wretched  thing,  no  better  than  a  kind  of  vermin."    To  be 
intellectual,  to  write  books,  to  do  wonders  in  mental  pyro-  30 
techny,  is  not  the  chief  end  of  man,  nor  can  we  make  it  so. 
This  is  indeed  what  we  seem  to  be  aiming  at,  but  we  shall 


44  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

fail ;  Nature  will  prove  too  strong  for  us  here  :  and,  if  we 
persist,  she  will  just  smash  us  up,  and  replace  us  with  a 
people  not  so  tormentedly  smart.  It  is  to  the  meek,  not 
the  brilliant,  that  the  possession  of  the  earth  is  promised. 

5  My  conclusion  from  the  whole  is,  that,  next  to  the  ele- 
mentary branches,  and  some  parts  of  science,  such  as  geog- 
raphy, astronomy,  and  what  is  called  natural  philosophy, 
standard  authors  in  English  literature  ought  to  have  a  place 
in  our  school  education.     Nor  am  I  sure  but  that,  instead 

10  of  thus  postponing  the  latter  to  science,  it  were  still  better 
to  put  them  on  an  equal  footing  with  it.  For  they  draw 
quite  as  much  into  the  practical  currents  of  our  American 
life  as  any  studies  properly  scientific  do ;  and,  which  is  of 
yet  higher  regard,  they  have  it  in  them  to  be  much  more 

15  effective  in  shaping  the  character.  For  they  are  the  right 
school  of  harmonious  culture  as  distinguished  from  mere 
formal  knowledge  ;  that  is,  they  are  a  discipline  of  human- 
ity :  and  to  have  the  soul  rightly  alive  to  the  difference 
between  the   noble   and   the   base  is   better    than    under- 

20  standing  the  laws  of  chemical  affinity. 

As  to  the  best  way  of  teaching  English  literature,  I  may 
speak  the  more  briefly  on  this,  inasmuch  as  a  good  deal  to 
the  point  has  been,  I  hope  not  obscurely,  implied  in  the 
remarks  already  made. 

25  In  the  first  place,  I  am  clear  that  only  a  few  of  the  very 
best  and  fittest  authors  should  be  used  ;  and  that  these 
should  be  used  long  enough,  and  in  large  enough  portions, 
for  the  pupils  to  get  really  at  home  with  them,  and  for  the 
grace  and  efficacy  of  them  to  become  thoroughly  steeped 

30  into  the  mind.  Bacon  tells  us  that  "  some  books  are  to  be 
tasted,  others  to  be  swallowed,  and  some  few  to  be  chewed 


ENGLISH   IN  SCHOOLS  45 

and  digested."  Of  course  it  is  only  the  latter  that  I  deem 
worthy  to  be  used  in  school.  And  I  lay  special  stress  on 
the  pupil's  coming  at  an  author  in  such  a  way,  and  staying 
with  him  so  long,  as  to  study  him  with  honest  love  and 
delight.  This  is  what  sets  and  fixes  the  taste.  And  this  is  a  5 
thing  that  cannot  be  extemporized  :  the  process  necessarily 
takes  considerable  time.  For  wise  men's  thoughts  are  a 
presence  to  live  in,  to  feed  upon,  and  to  grow  into  the  like- 
ness of.  And  the  benefit  of  a  right  good  book  all  depends 
upon  this,  that  its  virtue  just  soak  into  the  mind,  and  there  10 
become  a  living,  generative  force. 

Do  you  say  that  this  shuts  off  from  pupils  the  spur  and 
charm  of  novelty  ?  Yes,  that  it  does,  else  I  would  not  urge 
it.  What  I  want  first  of  all  is  to  shut  off  the  flashy,  fugitive 
charm  of  novelty,  so  as  to  secure  the  solid,  enduring  charm  15 
of  truth  and  beauty ;  for  these  are  what  it  does  the  soul 
good  to  be  charmed  with,  and  to  tie  up  in  the  society 
0f)  —  the  charm  of  a  "concord  that  elevates  and  stills"; 
while  the  charm  of  novelty  is  but  as  "  the  crackling  of 
thorns  under  a  pot,"  —  not  the  right  music  for  soul-sweet-  20 
ening.  "  A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever."  And  they 
know  nothing  of  the  genesis  of  the  human  affections,  who 
have  not  learned  that  these  thrive  best  in  the  society  of  old 
familiar  faces.  To  be  running  and  rambling  over  a  great 
many  books,  tasting  a  little  here,  a  little  there,  and  tying  up  25 
with  none,  is  good  for  nothing  in  school ;  nay,  worse  than 
nothing.  Such  a  process  of  "unceasing  change"  is  also 
a  discipline  of  "perpetual  emptiness."  It  is  as  if  a  man 
should  turn  free-lover,  and  take  to  himself  a  new  wife  every 
week ;  in  which  case  I  suppose  he  would  soon  become  in-  30 
different  to  them  all,  and  conclude  one  woman  to  be  just 
about  as  good  as  another.   The  household  affections  do  not 


46  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

grow  in  that  way.  And  the  right  method  in  the  culture  of 
the  mind  is  to  take  a  few  choice  books,  and  weave  about 
them 

the  fix'd  delights  of  house  and  home, 
5  Friendships  that  will  not  break,  and  love  that  cannot  roam. 

Again  :  In  teaching  English  literature,  I  think  it  is  not 
best  to  proceed  much,  if  at  all,  by  recitations,  but  by  what 
may  be  called  exercises ;  the  pupils  reading  the  author 
under  the  direction,  correction,   and    explanation  of    the 

10  teacher.  The  thing  is  to  have  the  pupils,  with  the  teacher's 
help  and  guidance,  commune  with  the  author  while  in  class, 
and  quietly  drink  in  the  sense  and  spirit  of  his  workman- 
ship. Such  communing  together  of  teacher  and  pupils  with 
the  mind  of  a  good  book  cannot  but  be  highly  fruitful  to 

15  them  both:  an  interplay  of  fine  sympathies  and  inspira- 
tions will  soon  spring  up  between  them,  and  pleasant  sur- 
prises of  truth  and  good  will  be  stealing  over  them.  The 
process  indeed  can  hardly  fail  to  become  a  real  sacrament 
of  the  heart  between  them  ;  for  they  will  here  find  how 

20  "one  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin." 

Nor  would  I  attempt  to  work  into  these  exercises  any- 
thing of  grammar  or  rhetoric  or  philology,  any  further  than 
this  may  be  clearly  needful  or  conducive  to  a  full  and 
fair  understanding  of  the  matter  read.+     To  use  a  standard 

25  author  mainly  as  a  theme  or  text  for  carrying  on  studies  in 
philology,  is  in  my  account  just  putting  the  cart  before  the 
horse.  Here  the  end  is  or  should  be  to  make  the  pupils 
understand  and  relish  what  the  author  delivers ;  and  what- 
ever of  philological  exercise  comes  in  should  be  held  strictly 

30  subordinate  to  this. 

With  my  classes  in  Shakespeare  and  Wordsworth,  as  also 
in  Burke  and  Webster,  I  am  never  at  all  satisfied,  unless  I 


ENGLISH    IN   SCHOOLS  47 

see  the  pupils  freely  taking  pleasure  in  the  workmanship. 
For  such  delight  in  a  good  book  is  to  me  a  sure  token  and 
proof  that  its  virtue  is  striking  in  and  going  to  the  spot.+ 
Rather  say,  it  is  a  pledge,  nay,  it  is  the  very  pulsation,  of 
sympathy  and  vital  magnetism  between  the  mind  within  5 
and  the  object  without.  And  without  this  blessed  infection 
beaming  in  the  face  and  sparkling  in  the  eyes,  even  the 
honest  striving  of  duty  on  the  pupil's  part  rather  dis- 
courages me.  So,  unless  I  can  get  the  pupils  to  be  happy 
in  such  communion,  I  am  unhappy  myself;  and  this,  I  sup-  10 
pose,  because  it  is  naturally  unpleasant  to  see  people  stand- 
ing in  the  presence  and  repeating  the  words  of  that  which 
is  good,  and  tasting  no  sweetness  therein.  For  "  what  is 
noble  should  be  sweet  "  ;  and  ought,  if  possible,  to  be  bound 
up  with  none  but  pleasant  associations;  that  so  delight  and  15 
love  may  hold  the  mind  in  perpetual  communion  with  the 
springs  of  health  and  joy.  And  if  I  can  plant  in  young 
minds  a  genuine  relish  for  the  authors  I  have  named,  then 
I  feel  tolerably  confident  that  the  devils  now  swarming 
about  us  in  the  shape  of  bad  books  will  stand  little  chance  20 
with  them ;  for  I  know  right  well  that  those  authors  have 
kept  legions  of  such  devils  off  from  me. 

From  all  which  it  follows,  next,  that,  in  teaching  English 
literature,  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  works  in 
formal  rhetoric,  or  with  any  general  outlines,  or  any  rapid  25 
and  wide  surveys,  or  any  of  the  school  reading  books  now 
in  use,  which  are  made  up  of  mere  chips  from  a  multitude 
of  authors,  and  so  can  have  little  effect  but  to  generate  a 
rambling  and  desultory  habit  of  mind.+  To  illustrate  my 
meaning,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  observe,  that  some  years  ago  30 
I  knew  of  a  programme  being  set  forth  officially,  which  em- 
braced little  bits  from  a  whole  rabble  of  American  authors, 


48  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

most  of  them  still  living;  but  not  a  single  sentence  from 
Daniel  Webster,  who,  it  seems  to  me,  is  perhaps  the  only 
American  author  that  ought  to  have  been  included  in  the  list. 
This  programme  was  drawn  up  for  a  course  in  English  litera- 

5  ture  to  be  used  in  the  public  schools.  Instead  of  such  a  mis- 
cellaneous collection  of  splinters,  my  thought  was  then,  and 
is  now,  Give  us  a  good  large  block  of  Webster ;  enough  for 
at  least  two  exercises  a  week  through  half  a  year.  This 
would  afford  a  fair  chance  of  making  the  pupils  really  at 

io  home  with  one  tall  and  genuine  roll  of  intellectual  manhood  ; 
which  done,  they  would  then  have  something  to  guide  and 
prompt  them  into  the  society  of  other  kindred  rolls  :  whereas, 
with  the  plan  proposed,  there  is  no  chance  of  getting  them 
at  home  with  any  intellectual  manhood  at  all ;  nay,  rather,  it 

15  is  just  the  way  to  keep  them  without  any  intellectual  home,  — 
a  nomadic  tribe  of  literary  puddle-sippers. 

As  for  the  matter  of  rhetoric,  all  that  can  be  of  much  use 
in  this  is,  I  think,  best  learned  in  the  concrete,  and  by  famil- 
iarizing the  mind  with  standard  models  of  excellence. +    For 

20  the  right  use  of  speech  goes  by  habit,  not  by  rule.  And  if 
people  should  happen  to  use  their  vernacular  clearly  and 
handsomely  without  knowing  why,  where  is  the  harm  of  it? 
Is  not  that  enough?  What  more  do  you  want?  If  you 
would  learn  to  speak  and  write  the  English  tongue  correctly, 

25  tastefully,  persuasively,  leave  the  rhetorics  behind,  and  give 
your  days  and  nights  to  the  masters  of  English  style.  This 
will  tend  to  keep  you  from  all  affectation  of  "  fine  writing," 
than  which  literature  has  nothing  more  empty  and  vapid. 
Besides,  it  is  only  after  the  mind  has  grown  largely  and 

30  closely  conversant  with  standard  authors,  that  studying  rhe- 
torical rules  and  forms  can  be  of  much  practical  use,  how- 
ever it  may  do  for  showing  off  in  recitation.    And  I  am  in 


ENGLISH   IN  SCHOOLS  49 

doubt  whether  it  were  not  better  omitted  even  then  :  for  such 
study,  in  so  far  as  it  is  trusted  in  for  forming  a  good  style, 
can  hardly  work  anything  but  damage  in  that  respect ;  and 
this  because  it  naturally  sets  one  to  imitating  other  men's 
verbal  felicities ;  which  is  simply  a  pestilent  vice  of  style.  5 
Therewithal  the  study  is  but  too  apt  to  possess  the  student, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  with  the  notion  that  men  are  to 
"  laugh  by  precept  only,  and  shed  tears  by  rule  "  ;  a  sort  of 
laughter  and  tears  from  which  I  shall  beg  to  be  excused. 
On  this  point,  my  first,  second,  and  third  counsel  is,  —         10 

the  live  current  quaff, 
And  let  the  groveler  sip  his  stagnant  pool, 
In  fear  that  else,  when  Critics  grave  and  cool 
Have  killed  him,  Scorn  should  write  his  epitaph. 

Against  the  course  I  have  been  marking  out,  the  objection  15 
is  sometimes  urged  that  it  would  cut  pupils  off  from  contem- 
porary authors.    It  would  do  so  indeed,  and  I  like  it  the 
better  for  that.    I   have  already  implied   that  no  literary 
workmanship,  short  of  the  best  there  is  to  be  had,  ought  to 
be  drawn  upon  for  use  in  school.    For  the  natural  alliance  20 
of  taste  and  morals  is  much  closer  than  most  people  suppose. 
In  fact,  taste  is,  in  my  account,  a  kind  of  intellectual  con- 
science :  downright,  perfect  honesty  is  the  first  principle  of 
it;  solidity  is  its  prime  law  ;  and  all  sorts  of  pretense,  affec- 
tation, and  sham  are  its  aversion  :  so  that  it  amounts  to  about  25 
the  same  thing  as  the  perfect  manliness  which  I  find  in  Web- 
ster's style.  —  Now,  for  the  due  approval  of  excellence  in 
literary  art,  a  longer  time  than  the  individual  life  is  commonly 
required.    Of  the  popular  writers  now  living,  probably  not 
one  in  five  hundred  will  be  heard  of  thirty  years  hence.    I  30 
have  myself  outlived  two  generations  of  just  such  immortal 
writers,  —  whole  regiments  of  them.    Of  course  there  are 


50  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

fashions  in  literature,  as  in  other  things.  These  are  apt  to  be 
bad  enough  at  the  best,  —  bad  enough  anywhere ;  but  the 
school  is  just  the  last  place,  except  the  church,  where  they 
ought  to  be  encouraged.    Be  assured  that,  in  the  long  run, 

5  it  will  not  pay  to  have  our  children  in  school  making 
acquaintance  with  the  fashionable  writers  of  the  day.  For, 
long  before  the  pupils  now  in  school  reach  maturity,  another 
set  of  writers  will  be  in  popular  vogue  ;  their  tenure  to  be 
equally  transient  in  turn. 

10  Unquestionably  the  right  way  in  this  matter  is,  to  start  the 
young  with  such  authors  as  have  been  tested  and  approved 
by  a  large  collective  judgment. +  For  it  is  not  what  pleases  at 
first,  but  what  pleases  permanently,  that  the  human  mind 
cares  to  keep  alive.    What  has  thus  withstood  the  wear  of 

15  time  carries  solid  proof  of  having  strength  and  virtue  in  it. 
For  example,  poetry  that  has  no  holiness  in  it  may  be,  for  it 
often  has  been,  vastly  popular  in  its  day  ;  but  it  has  and  can 
have  no  lasting  hold  on  the  heart  of  man.  True,  there  may 
be  good  books  written  in  our  day ;  I  think  there  are  :  but 

20  there  needs  a  longer  trial  than  one  generation  to  certify  us 
of  the  fact,  so  as  to  warrant  us  in  adopting  an  author  for 
standard  use.  And  that  a  new  book  seems  to  us  good,  may 
be  in  virtue  of  some  superficial  prepossession  which  a  larger 
trial  will  utterly  explode.    We  need  better  assurance  than 

25  that. 

It  is  indeed  sometimes  urged  that,  if  the  young  be  thus 
trained  up  with  old  authors,  they  will  be  in  danger  of  falling 
behind  the  age.+  But  it  is  not  so.  The  surest  way  of  coming 
at  such  a  result  is  by  preengaging  them  with  the  literary 

30  freaks  and  fashions  and  popularities  of  the  day.  To  hold 
them  aloof  from  such  flitting  popularities,  to  steep  their  minds 
in  the  efficacy  of  such  books  as  have  always  been,  and  are 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  51 

likely  to  be,  above  the  fashion  of  the  day,  —  this  is  the  true 
course  for  setting  them  in  advance  of  the  time  ;  and,  unless 
they  be  set  in  advance  of  it,  they  will  certainly  fail  to  keep 
abreast  with  it.  For  the  wisdom  that  has  had  the  long  and 
strong  approval  of  the  past,  is  most  likely  to  be  the  wisdom  5 
of  the  future ;  and  the  way  to  keep  pace  with  the  age  is 
by  dwelling  with  its  wisdom,  not  with  its  folly.  In  fact, 
a  taste  for  the  shifting  literary  fashions  and  popularities  of 
the  hour  springs  from  shallowness  and  leads  to  shallow- 
ness. And  to  knit  your  pupils  up  close  with  old  standards,  io 
is  the  best  thing  you  can  do  for  them,  both  mentally  and 
morally. 

And  I  confess  I  like  to  see  the  young  growing  enthusiastic 
over  the  treasured   wisdom   and   eloquence  of   their  fore- 
fathers.   This  is  a  natural  and  wholesome  inspiration,  and  15 
such  as  the  soul  can  hardly  drink  in  or  catch  without  being 
lifted  and  expanded  by  it.    Worth  much  for  the  knowledge 
it  furthers,  it  is  worth  far  more  for  the  manhood  it  quickens. 
And  I  think  none  the  worse  of  it,  that  it  may  do  somewhat 
towards  chastising  down  the  miserable  conceit  now  so  rife  20 
amongst  us,  that  light  never  really  dawned  on  the  world  till 
about  that  glorious  time  when  our  eyes  were  first  opened, 
and  we  began  to  shed  our  wisdom  abroad.    To  be  sure,  the 
atmosphere  of  the  past  now  stands  impeached  as  being  a 
very  dull  and  sleepy  atmosphere  :  nevertheless  I  rather  like  25 
it,  and  think  I  have  often  found  much  health  and  comfort  in 
breathing  it.    Some  old  writer  tells  us  that  "  no  man  having 
drunk  old  wine  straightway  desireth  the  new  ;  for  he  saith 
the  old  is  better."    I  am  much  of  the  same  opinion.    In 
short,  old  wine,  old   books,  old   friends,  old  songs,  "  the  30 
precious  music  of  the  heart,"  are  the  wine,  the  books,  the 
friends,  the  songs  for  me  ! 


52  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

Besides,  we  have  quite  enough  of  the  present  outside  of 
the  school ;  and  one  of  our  greatest  needs  at  this  very  time 
is  more  of  inspiration  from  the  past.  Living  too  much  in  the 
present  is  not  good  either  for  the  mind  or  for  the  heart : 

5  its  tendency  is  to  steep  the  soul  in  the  transient  popularities 
of  the  hour,  and  to  vulgarize  the  whole  man.  Not  that  the 
present  age  is  worse  than  former  ages  ;  it  may  even  be  better 
as  a  whole  :  but  what  is  bad  or  worthless  in  an  age  gener- 
ally dies  with  the  age  :  so  that  only  the  great  and  good  of 

io  the  past  touches  us  ;  while  of  the  present  we  are  most  touched 
by  that  which  is  little  and  mean.  The  shriekings  and  jab- 
berings  of  an  age's  folly  almost  always  drown,  for  the  time 
being,  the  eloquence  of  its  wisdom  :  but  the  eloquence  lives 
and  speaks  after  the  jabberings  have  gone  silent,  God's  air 

15  refusing  to  propagate  them.  So  let  our  youth  now  and  then 
breathe  and  listen  an  hour  or  two  in  the  old  intellectual 
fatherland,  where  all  the  foul  noises  have  long  since  died 
away,  leaving  the  pure  music  to  sound  up  full  and  clear.4" 


SHAKESPEARE  AS  A  TEXT-BOOK1 

Shakespeare's  dramas,  confessedly  the  greatest  classic  and 
literary  treasure  of  the  world,  —  the  Bible  only  excepted,  — 
are  rapidly  growing  into  use  as  a  text-book  in  schools  and 
institutions  of  learning.  A  close  and  regular  course  of  study 
in  them  has  at  length  come  to  be  widely  recognized  as  5 
among  our  very  best  means  both  for  acquiring  a  right 
knowledge  and  use  of  the  English  tongue,  and  also,  which 
is  of  still  more  importance,  for  conversing  with  the  truth 
of  things. 

Some  of  the  plays,  however,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  10 
subjects  and  to  the  Poet's  mode  of  treating  them,  are  quite 
impracticable  for  such  use,  and  cannot  be  made  suitable 
without  so  much  of  amputation  as  would,  in  effect,  let  all 
the  lifeblood  out  of  them.    Others  of  them,  again,  and  such 
withal  as  are  the  very  best  for  study  in  class,  have  more  or  15 
less  of  matter  in  them  which,  while  nowise  essential  to  the 
proper  health  and  integrity  of  the  work,  is  greatly  in  the 
way,  and  sometimes  so  embarrassing  as  to  hinder  seriously 
both  the  pleasure  and  the  profit  of  the  study.    All  of  them, 
moreover,  for  obvious  reasons,  need  a  certain  measure  and  20 
style  of  annotation,  specially  adapted,  as  far  as  may  be,  to 
rendering  the  Poet's  language,  imagery,  and  allusions  intel- 
ligible  and    interesting   to   young   minds,  who   cannot   be 

1  Reprinted,  with  certain  changes  and  omissions,  from  the  Editor's 
Preface  to  the  first  volume  of  his  School  Shakespeare,  as  originally 
pubhshed  in  1870. 

53 


54  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

supposed  to  be  much  at  home  in  the  peculiarities  of  Eng- 
lish thought  and  expression  three  hundred  years  ago. 

Hence  a  need  has  come  to  be  strongly  and  extensively 
felt,  of  a  selection  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  prepared  and  set 

5  forth  with  a  special  eye  to  the  use  in  question.  I  have 
received  many  assurances  of  this  from  others,  and  have 
found  abundant  evidence  of  it  in  my  own  case.  A  pretty 
long  and  large  and  varied  experience  in  teaching  Shake- 
speare in  class  has  brought  home  to  me,  beyond  peradven- 

10  ture,  the  pressing  occasion  of  some  such  work  as  is  here 
offered  to  the  public.  And  the  want,  be  it  observed,  is  not 
of  mere  chips  and  fragments  of  the  Poet,  but  of  whole 
plays,  with  the  development  of  character  and  the  course  of 
action  preserved  unmutilated  and  entire,  and  with  only  such 

15  erasures  as  are  really  demanded  by  the  just  proprieties  of 
intercourse  between  teacher  and  pupils,  and  of  pupils  with 
one  another. 

The  plays,  in  all  cases,  are  given  entire,  save  the  bare 
omission  of  such  lines  and   expressions  as  I  have  always 

20  deemed  it  necessary  to  omit  in  class. +  The  omissions,  I 
believe,  do  not  in  any  case  reach  so  far  as  to  impair  in 
the  least  either  the  delineation  of  character  or  the  dramatic 
action.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  not  meant  to  retain 
any  matter  not  fairly  pronounceable   in  any  class,  how- 

25  ever  composed.  My  own  opinion  clearly  is,  that  if  Shake- 
speare cannot  be  used  as  a  text-book  without  overstepping 
the  just  bounds  of  modest  and  decorous  speech,  then  such 
use  were  better  not  attempted.  For  purity  and  rectitude 
of  manners  are  worth  more  than  any  intellectual  benefit 

30  to  be  derived  from  the  poetry  and  wisdom  even  of  a 
Shakespeare.  In  Julius  Ccesar,  for  instance,  as  also  in 
King  Richard  II,  I  have  not  found  occasion  to  cut  out  or 


SHAKESPEARE   AS   A    TEXT-BOOK  55 

change  anything  whatsoever ;  there  being,  as  I  think,  not 
a  single  word  in  those  plays  unfit  to  cross  the  chariest  lips. 
And  in  several  others  the  omissions  are  very  slight  indeed, 
sometimes  not  extending  to  more  than  half  a  dozen  lines  in 
a  whole  play.  5 

Having  said  thus  much,  it  seems  but  due  to  add,  that 
I  hold  Shakespeare's  workmanship  to  be  everywhere  free 
from  the  least  blame  of  moral  infection  or  taint :  I  know 
of  no  passage  that  can  be  hurtful  to  any  fair  mind,  if  taken 
in  its  proper  connection  with  the  whole.  But  of  course  10 
everybody  knows  that  there  may  be  many  things  right  and 
proper  in  themselves,  which  however  ought  not  to  be  spoken, 
and  which  it  is  very  desirable  not  to  have  before  the  eye,  in 
the  sacred  intercourse  of  teacher  and  pupils. 

No  pains  have  been  spared,  either  in  preparing  the  copy  15 
or  in  correcting  the  proofs,  to  set  forth  a  pure  and  accurate 
text  of  the  Poet.  In  many  cases  of  various  readings,  there 
are,  and  probably  always  will  be,  considerable  differences  of 
opinion  as  to  which  is  the  best.  In  this  matter,  I  can 
but  claim  to  have  used  my  best  judgment,  such  as  it  is  20 
after  more  than  forty  years'  study  of  the  Poet. 

In  the  matter  of  annotation,  it  is  not  easy  to  hit  just 
the  right  medium  between  too  much  and  too  little.  Here, 
again,  I  have  been  mainly  guided  by  the  results  of  my  own 
experience  in  teaching ;  aiming  to  give  so  many  and  such  25 
notes  as  I  have  found  needful  or  conducive  to  a  full  and  clear 
understanding  of  the  Poet's  thought.  Besides  the  need  of 
economizing  space,  I  have  wished  to  avoid  distracting  or 
diverting  the  student's  attention  overmuch  from  the  special 
object-matter  of  the  Poet's  scenes.  30 

And  here  I  feel  moved  to  protest  against  Shakespeare's 
being  used,  as  some  apparently  would  use  him,  too  much  as 


56  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

a  mere  occasion  for  carrying  on  general  exercises  in  grammar 
and  philology.  These,  to  be  sure,  are  essential  parts  of  a 
right  English  schooling  ;  but  they  can  be  learned  just  as  well 
from  other  books,  —  books  which  it  is  no  sin  not  to  love, 
5  and  no  loss  to  forget  after  leaving  school.  And  in  studying 
Shakespeare  the  pupil's  mind  should  be  put  as  closely  and 
directly  as  possible  in  intelligent  sympathy  with  the  Poet's 
own  mental  deliverances  ;  everything  else  being  made  strictly 
subordinate   to  this.    In  other  words,  the   purpose  should 

10  ever  be  kept  foremost  to  teach  or  to  learn  Shakespeare,  and 
not  to  use  him  as  a  means  of  teaching  or  learning  something 
else.  With  him,  preeminently,  language  is  the  medium,  not 
the  object  of  thought,  insomuch  that  he  seems  to  have  used 
it  almost  unconsciously.    It  is  true,  his  language,  especially 

15  with  beginners,  must  needs  be  itself  made  more  or  less  an 
object  of  study ;  but  this  should  be  done  so  far  only  as  is 
necessary  in  order  to  its  proper  efficacy  as  a  medium  of 
communion  with  his  men  and  women,  and  with  the  transpi- 
rations of  character  and  the  workings  of  human  nature  as 

20  presented  in  them. 

Shakespeare,  be  it  remembered,  is  not  one  of  those  books 
which  are  of  no  further  use  after  being  studied  in  school,  or 
which  are  as  scaffoldage,  to  be  thrown  aside  as  soon  as  the 
roof  is  on  ;  and  it  is  better  he  should  not  be  used  as  a  text- 

25  book  at  all,  than  that  such  use  should  be  so  conducted  as  to 
breed  a  dislike  of  him  :  and  some  care  may  well  be  taken 
against  pushing  the  grammatical  and  linguistic  part  of  the 
study  so  far  as  to  obstruct  the  proper  virtue  of  his  pages,  and 
lest  the  effect  be  rather  to  quench  than  kindle  the  faculties 

30  and  susceptibilities  for  that  which  is  most  living  and  opera- 
tive in  him,  or  for  what  may  be  called  the  Shakespeare  of 
Shakespeare. 


SHAKESPEARE  AS  A  TEXT-BOOK  57 

It  is  what  young  people  learn  to  take  pleasure  in,  what 
they  build  up  happy  thoughts  and  associations  about,  and 
what  steals  smoothly  and  silently  into  the  heart,  and  there 
becomes  a  vital  treasure  of  delight,  that  mainly  determines 
their  characters.  In  comparison  with  this,  mere  intellectual  5 
acquirements  and  furnishings,  and  even  ethical  arguments 
and  convictions,  are  of  insignificant  value.  "  The  forms  of 
young  imagination"  have  more  force  than  anything  else  to 
keep  the  heart  pure.  To  preoccupy  the  mind  with  right 
tastes  and  noble  loves,  and  with  a  stock  of  grand  and  pure  10 
conceptions,  and  thus  to  foreclose,  as  far  as  may  be,  the  invi- 
tations of  what  is  false  and  flashy  and  sensational,  the  intel- 
lectual fashions  and  frivolities  and  diseases  of  the  day,  is 
the  first  principle  of  all  wise  and  wholesome  training  both 
in  school  and  at  home.  For  this  process  and  to  this  end,  15 
except  the  Bible,  we  have  nothing  better  than  the  dramas 
of  Shakespeare.  And  the  best  fruit  of  studying  him  is  to 
come  by  letting  the  efficacies  of  his  genius  insinuate  them- 
selves quietly  into  "  the  eye  and  prospect  of  the  soul,"  and 
by  binding  his  creations  home  upon  the  thoughts  and  affec-  20 
tions  as  a  fund  of  inexhaustible  sweetness  and  refreshment. 
And  there  is  probably  more  danger  that  teachers  will  hinder 
this  process  by  overworking  some  subsidiary  matter,  than 
that  the  process  will  fail  to  take  care  of  itself,  provided  the 
pupils  be  set  and  held  in  free  and  natural  communication  25 
with  the  Poet ;  all  exercises  in  grammar  and  philology  being 
used  simply  to  aid,  and  not  to  disturb,  the  clear  apprehen- 
sion of  what  he  delivers. 

Such  are  the  thoughts  which  have  been  uppermost  in 
my  mind,  and  have  mainly  shaped  my  course,  in  prepar-  30 
ing  the   notes.    How  far  the   execution  accords  with  my 
design  and  makes  it  good,  is  not  for  me  to  judge.    In  my 


58  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

teaching,  especially  with  younger  classes,  I  of  course  often 
go  much  more  into  the  details  of  verbal  and  syntactical 
exegesis  than  is  shown  in  the  annotation.  But  it  is  presumed 
that  every  one  who  may  undertake  to  teach  Shakespeare  will 
5  be  sufficiently  booked  in  the  logic  of  grammar,  the  laws  of 
language,  and  the  construction  and  analysis  of  sentences,  to 
carry  on  the  work  out  of  his  own  head,  and  as  he  finds  it 
needful  or  profitable  to  do  so.  Textual  explanation  is  an- 
other matter  indeed,  and  may  need  to  be  prosecuted  some- 

10  what  further;  for  the  Poet's  style  is  intensely  idiomatic, 
generally  charged  with  metaphoric  audacity,  often  over- 
crammed  with  meaning,  and  sometimes  very  obscure  :  yet 
even  here  it  is  thought  that  much  had  better  be  left  to  the 
occasions  and  resources  of  individual  teachers.    For,  after 

15  all,  nothing  but  a  pretty  thorough  steeping  of  the  teacher's 

mind  in  the  Shakespearean  idiom  can  bring  him  fairly  through 

this  part  of  his  work.    If  he  be  not  himself  at  home  with 

Shakespeare,  he  can  hardly  expect  to  make  others  so. 

As  to  the  method  or  methods  of  teaching  in  Shakespeare, 

20  here  again  much  should  and  indeed  must  be  left  to  indi- 
vidual judgment  and  adaptation.  This  is  a  thing  not  capa- 
ble of  being  stereotyped,  and  passed  on  from  hand  to  hand. 
The  method  that  works  very  well  in  one  man's  hands  may 
not  work  at  all  in  another's.    Thus  much,  however,  may 

25  be  not  unfitly  spoken,  that  I  do  not  believe  at  all  in 
turning  the  schoolroom  into  a  playhouse  or  anything  of 
that  sort.  My  work  and  method  in  class  aim  at  a  mixed 
and  varied  exercise  in  reading,  language,  character,  versifi- 
cation, and  art.    Especially  I  make  much  of  reading,  both 

30  for  the  utility  and  the  accomplishment  of  it :  +  this,  in 
fact,  is  the  groundwork  of  all  my  instructions  ;  and  in  order- 
ing this  I  drive,  or  endeavor  to  drive,  right  at  the  simple 


SHAKESPEARE    AS    A   TEXT-BOOK  59 

truth  of  the  matter,  and  at  a  sincere  and  natural  expression 
of  it.  In  other  words,  all  my  efforts  in  this  behalf  are  meant 
to  converge  at  the  point  of  bringing  the  pupils  first  to  under- 
stand the  Poet's  lines  fairly,  and  then  so  to  pronounce  them 
that  an  intelligent  listener  may  understand  them  ;  taking  for  5 
granted  that,  if  this  point  be  secured,  the  proper  moral, 
intellectual,  and  aesthetic  effect  of  them  will  follow  of  its 
own  accord  ;  and  the  more  silent  and  unobserved  its  coming 
is,  the  better. 

I  therefore  neither  practice  nor  encourage  any  straining  10 
or  forcing  of  the  process  :  any  using  of  the  whip  or  the 
spur  he  regards  as  out  of  place  :   however  lively  and  intense 
the  exertion  of  the  student's  faculties  may  be,  I  aim  to 
have  it  spontaneous,  genial,  and  free  ;  the  result  of  inward 
kindling,  not  of  external  pressure.  Thus  the  process,  through-  15 
out,  on  the  part  of  the  pupils,  is  meant  to  be  a  quiet,  gentle, 
yet  earnest  communing  with  the  Poet's  forms  and  with  the 
spirit  of  them,  so  that  their  grace  and  efficacy  may  pass 
secretly  and  insensibly  into  the  mind  ;  because  the  less  the 
pupils  are  at  the  time  conscious  of  getting  from  him,  the  20 
more  they  will  really  get.    And  I  am  right  well  persuaded, 
withal,  that  exercises  in  Shakespeare  may  be  and  ought  to 
be  so  conducted,  that  the  students  shall  be  fresher  and 
stronger  at  the  close  of  them  than  at  the  beginning. 

To  induce  just  and  clear  perceptions  of  the  Poet's  charac-  25 
ters ;  to  bring  pupils  to  discriminate  and  taste  their  distinc- 
tive lines  of  mental,  moral,  and  practical  physiognomy ;  to 
make  them  enter  into  their  idioms  of  thought  and  manner, 
their  springs,  modes,  and  vitalities  of  action,  —  this  is  a 
higher  and  riper  and  slower  process."  There  must  needs  be  30 
a  certain  measure  of  preparation  for  it,  and  this,  of  course, 
cannot  be  extemporized.    Yet,  this  part  of  the  exercise  left 


60  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

out,  the  study  can  be  little  but  a  dry  training  in  the  letter  of 
the  Poet's  workmanship,  without  the  life  and  substance  of  it. 
Besides,  it  is  this  personal  acquaintance  and  convivation 
with  the  Poet's  men  and  women  that  makes,  more  than  any- 
5  thing  else,  the  perennial  verdure  and  charm  of  his  scenes. 
No  one  who  once  gets  to  be  thus  inward  and  at  home  with 
his  delineations  can  ever  weary  of  them  or  outgrow  the 
interest  of  them  ;  for,  so  taken,  "age  cannot  wither  them, 
nor  custom  stale  their  infinite  variety." 

10  Which  naturally  raises  the  question,  At  what  age  should 
the  study  of  Shakespeare  be  undertaken?  And  the  answer  is, 
Not  till  the  student  is,  at  least  in  some  fair  degree,  capable 
of  this  part  of  the  exercise.  But  young  people  are,  or  may 
be  made,  apprehensive  and  receptive  of  characteristic  traits 

15  as  delivered  in  forms  of  art,  earlier  than  most  of  us  are  apt 
to  suppose.  Feature/y  expression  in  picture,  fable,  and 
poetry,  is  not  so  very  hard  a  thing  for  the  youthful  faculties 
to  catch  and  take  in  the  virtue  of.  And  it  may  be  safely 
presumed  that,  if  average  minds  be  duly  placed  and  held 

20  within  the  reach  of  Shakespeare's  light  and  warmth,  their 
latent  aptitudes  for  the  exercise  in  question  will  germinate 
and  grow  as  early  as,  say,  the  middle  period  of  ordinary 
academic  life.  They  can  at  least  be  started  in  the  process 
by  that  time,  if  not  before.    At  all  events,  using  my  own 

25  experience,  as  well  as  the  reason  of  the  thing,  for  my 
test  and  guide,  I  can  hardly  think  it  a  good  use  either  of 
the  time  or  of  the  book,  for  pupils  to  enter  upon  the  study 
of  Shakespeare,  until  they  are  prepared  to  go  along  with  him 
in  those  points  of  his  cunning  workmanship.    There  is  quite 

30  too  much  of  crowding  and  cramming  in  our  education 
already  ;  the  effects  of  which  may  be  seen  in  a  pretty  large 
stock  of  intellectual  and  moral  shoddy ;  and  any  extending 


SHAKESPEARE  AS   A   TEXT-BOOK  6l 

of  this  process  into  the  walks  of  Shakespeare  cannot  be  too 
earnestly  deprecated,  or  too  carefully  avoided. 

As  to  exercises  in  the  Poet's  versification  and  art,  I 
never  attempt  to  prosecute  these  at  all,  except  in  his 
older  classes ;+  the  former  because  it  is  too  dry,  the  5 
latter  because  it  is  too  high.  Moreover,  the  peculiar  rich- 
ness and  variety  of  the  Poet's  verbal  modulation,  the  sub- 
tile and  winding,  yet  severe  and  never-cloying  music  of  his 
verse,  which  seems  to  voice  the  essential  harmonies  of 
intellectual  and  emotional  beauty,  are  among  those  quali-  10 
ties  of  his  workmanship  which  are  the  last  to  be  consciously 
appreciated  even  by  the  most  pronounced  Shakespeareans. 
At  least,  I  have  found  it  so  in  my  own  experience ;  and 
some  of  our  ripest  students  of  the  Poet,  those  who  have 
made  a  lifelong  study  of  him,  have  told  me  that  it  was  15 
the  same  in  theirs.  So,  too,  the  principles  and  philosophy 
of  art,  as  involved  in  Shakespeare's  creations,  are  mat- 
ter for  the  ripest  and  best-trained  minds ;  too  deep  and 
intricate  perhaps  for  any  but  such  as  make  a  special  study 
in  pursuits  of  that  nature.  These  points  cannot  be  treated  20 
here,  and  have  received  such  treatment  as  I  could  give 
them,  in  my  work  entitled  Shakespeare's  Life,  Art,  and 
Characters. 

In  conclusion,  I  beg  to  say,  that  for  some  years  past  I 
have  felt  a  strong  and  growing  desire  to  do  what  I  could  25 
towards  working  Shakespeare  into  general  and  system- 
atic use  as  a  text-book  in  the  education  of  youth.  It  was 
in  pursuance  of  that  long-cherished  wish,  that  I  undertook 
the  present  work.  If  the  work  should  prove  in  any  degree 
useful  in  furthering  that  cause,  I  will  deem  my  labors  well  30 
taken  and  amply  rewarded.  For,  in  truth,  it  seems  to  me 
that  we  stay  quite  too  much  in  the  study  of  words,  and  quite 


62  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

too  little  in  that  of  things ;  and  that  the  reform  now  most 
needed  in  our  educational  modes  is  the  giving  much  more 
time  to  the  masters  of  our  native  language,  which  is  to  us 
naturally  a  medium  of  intellectual  vision,  and  much  less  to 
5  the  study  of  foreign  languages,  which,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  must  needs  be  to  us,  for  the  most  part,  the  object  of 
such  vision. 


HOW  TO  USE   SHAKESPEARE 
IN   SCHOOL 

As  I  have  long  been  in  frequent  receipt  of  letters  asking 
for  advice  or  suggestions  as  to  the  best  way  of  using  Shake- 
speare in  class,  I  have  concluded  to  write  out  and  print 
some  of  my  thoughts  on  that  subject.  On  one  or  two  pre- 
vious occasions,  I  have  indeed  moved  the  theme,  but  only,  5 
for  the  most  part,  incidentally,  and  in  subordinate  connection 
with  other  topics,  never  with  anything  like  a  round  and  full 
exposition  of  it. 

And  in  the  first  place  I  am  to  remark,  that  in  such  a  mat- 
ter no  one  can  make  up  or  describe,  in  detail,  a  method  of  10 
teaching  for  another :  in  many  points  every  teacher  must 
strike  out  his  or  her  own  method  ;  for  a  method  that  works 
very  well  in  one  person's  hands  may  nevertheless  fail  entirely 
in  another's. +  Some  general  reasons  or  principles  of  method, 
together  with  a  few  practical  hints  of  detail,  is  about  all  that  15 
I  can  undertake  to  give ;  this  too  rather  with  a  view  to  set- 
ting teachers'  own  minds  at  work  in  devising  ways,  than  to 
marking  out  any  formal  course  of  procedure. 

In  the  second  place,  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  method  of 
teaching  is  to  be  shaped  and  suited  to  the  particular  pur-  20 
pose  in  hand  ;  on  the  general  principle,  of  course,  that  the 
end  is  to  point  out  and  prescribe  the  means.  So,  if  the 
purpose  be  to  make  the  pupils  in  our  public  schools  Shake- 
speareans  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term,  I  can  mark  out  no 
practicable  method  for  the  case,  because  I  hold  the  purpose  25 

63 


64  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

itself  to  be  utterly  impracticable ;  one  that  cannot  possibly 
be  carried  out,  and  ought  not  to  be,  if  it  could.  I  find 
divers  people  talking  and  writing  as  if  our  boys  and  girls 
were  to  make  a  knowledge  of  Shakespeare  the  chief  busi- 
5  ness  of  their  life,  and  were  to  gain  their  living  thereby. 
These  have  a  sort  of  cant  phrase  current  among  them, 
about  "knowing  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense";  and 
they  are  instructing  us  that,  in  order  to  this,  we  must  study 
the  English  language  historically,  and  acquire  a  technical 

10  mastery  of  Elizabethan  idioms. 

Now,  to  know  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense,  if  it  means 
anything,  must  mean,  I  take  it,  to  become  Shakespeareans, 
or  become  eminent  in  the  knowledge  of  Shakespeare ;  that 
is  to  say,  we  must  have  such  a  knowledge  of  Shakespeare 

15  as  can  be  gained  only  by  making  a  special  and  continuous, 
or  at  least  very  frequent,  study  of  him  through  many  long 
years.  So  the  people  in  question  seem  intent  upon  some 
plan  or  programme  of  teaching  whereby  the  pupils  in  our 
schools  shall  come  out  full-grown  Shakespeareans ;  this  too 

20  when  half  a  dozen,  or  perhaps  a  dozen,  of  the  Poet's  plays 
is  all  they  can  possibly  find  time  for  studying  through.  And 
to  this  end,  they  would  have  them  study  the  Poet's  language 
historically,  and  so  draw  out  largely  into  his  social,  moral, 
and  mental  surroundings,  and  ransack  the  literature  of  his 

25  time  ;  therewithal  they  would  have  their  Shakespeare  Gram- 
mars and  Shakespeare  Lexicons,  and  all  the  apparatus  for 
training  the  pupils  in  a  sort  of  learned  verbalism,  and  in 
analyzing  and  parsing  the  Poet's  sentences. 

Now  I  know  of  but  three  persons  in  the  whole  United 

30  States  who  have  any  just  claim  to  be  called  Shakespeareans, 
or  who  can  be  truly  said  to  know  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent 
sense.    Those  are,  of  course,  Mr.  Grant  White,  Mr.  Howard 


SHAKESPEARE   IN  SCHOOL  6$ 

Furness,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Crosby.  Beyond  this  goodly  trio, 
I  cannot  name  a  single  person  in  the  land  who  is  able  to  go 
alone,  or  even  to  stand  alone,  in  any  question  of  textual 
criticism  or  textual  correction.  For  that  is  what  it  is  to 
be  a  Shakespearean.  And  these  three  have  become  Shake-  5 
speareans,  not  by  the  help  of  any  labor-saving  machinery, 
such  as  special  grammars  and  lexicons,  but  by  spending  many 
years  of  close  study  and  hard  brain  work  in  and  around  their 
author.  Before  reaching  that  point,  they  have  not  only  had 
to  study  all  through  the  Poet  himself,  and  this  a  great  many  10 
times,  but  also  to  make  many  excursions  and  sojournings  in 
the  popular,  and  even  the  erudite  authorship  of  his  period. 
And  the  work  has  been  almost,  if  not  altogether,  a  pure 
labor  of  love  with  them.  They  have  pursued  it  with  impas- 
sioned earnestness,  as  if  they  could  find  no  rest  for  their  15 
souls  without  it. 

Well,  and  what  do  you  suppose  the  result  of  all  this  has 
done  or  is  doing  for  them  in  the  way  of  making  a  living? 
Do  you  suppose  they  can  begin  to  purchase  their  bread  and 
butter,  or  even  so  much  as  the  bread  without  the  butter,  with  20 
the  proceeds  of  their  great  learning  and  accomplishments  in 
that  kind?  No,  not  a  bit  of  it !  For  the  necessaries  of  life, 
every  man  of  them  has  to  depend  mostly,  if  not  entirely,  on 
other  means.  If  they  had  nothing  to  feed  upon  but  what 
their  Shakespeare  knowledge  brings  them,  they  would  have  25 
mighty  little  use  for  their  teeth.  If  you  do  not  believe  this, 
ask  the  men  themselves  :  and  if  they  tell  you  it  is  not  so, 
then  I  will  frankly  own  myself  a  naughty  boy,  and  will  do 
penance  publicly  for  my  naughtiness.  For  my  own  poor 
part,  I  know  right  well  that  I  have  no  claim  to  be  called  a  30 
Shakespearean,  albeit  I  may,  perchance,  have  had  some  fool- 
ish aspirations  that  way.    Nevertheless  I  will  venture  to  say 


66  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

that  Shakespeare  work  does  more  towards  procuring  a  liveli- 
hood for  me  than  for  either  of  the  gentlemen  named.  This 
is  doubtless  because  I  am  far  inferior  to  them  in  Shake- 
spearean acquirement  and  culture.  Yet,  if  I  had  nothing  but 
5  the  returns  of  my  labor  in  that  kind  to  live  upon,  I  should 
have  to  live  a  good  deal  more  cheaply  than  I  do.  And  there 
would  probably  be  no  difficulty  in  finding  persons  that  were 
not  born  till  some  time  after  my  study  of  Shakespeare  began, 
who,  notwithstanding,  can  now  outbid  me  altogether  in  any 

10  auction  of  bread-buying  popularity.  This,  no  doubt,  is  be- 
cause their  natural  gifts  and  fitness  for  the  business  are  so  su- 
perior to  mine,  that  they  might  readily  be  extemporized  into 
what  no  length  of  time  and  study  could  possibly  educate  me. 
In  all  this  the  three  gentlemen  aforesaid  are,  I  presume, 

15  far  from  thinking  they  have  anything  to  complain  of,  or  from 
having  any  disposition  to  complain  ;  and  I  am  certainly  as 
far  from  this  as  they  are.  It  is  all  in  course,  and  all  just 
right,  except  that  I  have  a  good  deal  better  than  I  deserve. 
And  both  they  and  I  know  very  well  that  nothing  but  a  love 

20  of  the  thing  can  carry  any  one  through  such  a  work ;  that 
in  the  nature  of  things  such  pursuits  have  to  be  their  own 
reward  ;  and  that  here,  as  elsewhere,  "  love  's  not  love  when 
it  is  mingled  with  regards  that  stand  aloof  from  th'  entire 
point."+ 

25  Such,  then,  is  the  course  and  process  by  which,  and  by 
which  alone,  men  can  come  to  know  Shakespeare  in  any 
sense  deserving  to  be  called  eminent.  It  is  a  process  of 
close,  continuous,  lifelong  study.  And,  in  order  to  know 
the  Poet  in  this  eminent  sense,  one  must  know  a  good  deal 

30  more  of  him  than  of  anything  else  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  pur- 
suit must  be  something  of  a  specialty  with  him ;  unless  his 
mind  be  by  nature  far  more  encyclopedic  than  most  men's 


SHAKESPEARE    IN   SCHOOL  67 

are.  Then  too,  in  the  case  of  those  who  have  reached  this 
point,  the  process  had  its  beginning  in  a  deep  and  strong 
love  of  the  subject :  Shakespeare  has  been  a  passion  with 
them,  perhaps  I  should  say  the  master  passion  of  their  life  : 
this  was  both  the  initiative  impulse  that  set  them  a-going,  5 
and  also  the  sustaining  force  that  kept  them  going,  in  the 
work.  Now  such  a  love  can  hardly  be  wooed  into  life  or 
made  to  sprout  by  a  technical,  parsing,  gerund-grinding 
course  of  study."1"  The  proper  genesis  and  growth  of  love 
are  not  apt  to  proceed  in  that  way.  A  long  and  loving  10 
study  may  indeed  produce,  or  go  to  seed  in,  a  grammar  or 
a  lexicon  ;  but  surely  the  grammar  or  the  lexicon  is  not  the 
thing  to  prompt  or  inaugurate  the  long  and  loving  study. 
Or,  if  the  study  begin  in  that  way,  it  will  not  be  a  study  of 
the  workmanship  as  poetry,  but  only,  or  chiefly,  as  the  raw  15 
material  of  lingual  science ;  that  is  to  say,  as  a  subject  for 
verbal  dissection  and  surgery. 

If,  then,  any  teacher  would  have  his  pupils  go  forth  from 
school  knowing  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense,  he  must 
shape    and    order    his    methods   accordingly.    What    those  20 
methods  may  be,  or  should  be,  I  cannot  say  ;  but  I  should 
think  they  must  be  quite  in  the  high- pressure  line,  and  I 
more  than  suspect  they  will  prove  abortive,  after  all.    And 
here  I  cannot  forbear  to  remark  that  some  few  of  us  are  so 
stuck  in  old-fogyism,  or  so  fossilized,  as  to  hold  that  the  25 
main  business  of  people  in  this  world  is  to  gain  an  honest 
living  ;  and  that  they  ought  to  be  educated  with  a  con- 
stant eye  to  that  purpose.    These,  to  be  sure,  look  very  like 
self-evident  propositions;  axioms,  or  mere  truisms,  which, 
nevertheless,  our   education   seems  determined   to  ignore  30 
entirely,  and  a  due  application  of  which  would  totally  revo- 
lutionize our  whole  educational  system. 


68  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

Now  knowing  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense  does  not 
appear  to  be  exactly  the  thing  for  gaining  an  honest  living. 
All  people  but  a  few,  a  very  few  indeed,  have,  ought  to 
have,  must  have,  other  things  to  do.    I  suspect  that  one 

5  Shakespearean  in  about  five  millions  is  enough.  And  a  vast 
majority  are  to  get  their  living  by  handwork,  not  by  head- 
work  ;  and  even  with  those  who  live  by  headwork  Shake- 
speare can  very  seldom  be  a  leading  interest.  He  can  nowise 
be  the  substance  or  body  of  their  mental  food,  but  only,  at 

10  the  most,  as  a  grateful  seasoning  thereof.  Thinking  of  his 
poetry  may  be  a  pleasant  and  helpful  companion  for  them  in 
their  business,  but  cannot  be  the  business  itself.  His  divine 
voice  may  be  a  sweetening  tone,  yet  can  be  but  a  single  tone, 
and  an  undertone  at  that,  in  the  chorus  of  a  well-ordered 

15  life  and  a  daily  round  of  honorable  toil.  Of  the  students 
in  our  colleges  not  one  in  a  thousand,  of  the  pupils  in  our 
high  schools  not  one  in  a  hundred  thousand,  can  think,  or 
ought  to  think,  of  becoming  Shakespeareans.  But  most  of 
them,  it  may  be  hoped,  can  become  men  and  women  of  right 

20  intellectual  tastes  and  loves,  and  so  be  capable  of  a  pure  and 
elevating  pleasure  in  the  converse  of  books.  Surely,  then, 
in  the  little  time  that  can  be  found  for  studying  Shakespeare, 
the  teaching  should  be  shaped  to  the  end,  not  of  making 
the  pupils  Shakespeareans,  but  only  of  doing  somewhat  — 

25  it  cannot  be  much  —  towards  making  them  wiser,  better, 
happier  men  and  women. 

So,  in  reference  to  school  study,  what  is  the  use  of  this 
cant  about  knowing  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense  ?  Why 
talk  of  doing  what  no  sane  person  can  ever,  for  a  moment, 

30  possibly  think  of  attempting?  The  thing  might  well  be 
passed  by  as  one  of  the  silliest  cants  that  ever  were  canted, 
but  that,  as  now  often  urged,  it  is  of  a  very  misleading  and 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  69 

mischievous  tendency ;  like  that  other  common  folly  of  tell- 
ing all  our  boys  that  they  may  become  President  of  the 
United  States.  This  is  the  plain  and  simple  truth  of  the 
matter,  and  as  such  I  am  for  speaking  it  without  any  sort  of 
mincing  or  disguise.  In  my  vocabulary,  indeed,  on  most  5 
occasions  I  choose  that  a  spade  be  simply  "a  spade,"  and 
not  "an  instrument  for  removing  earth." 

This  brings  me  to  the  main  point,  to  what  may  be  called 
the  heart  of  my  message.  Since  anything  worthy  to  be 
termed  an  eminent  knowledge  of  Shakespeare  cannot  possi-  10 
bly  be  gained  or  given  in  school,  and  could  not  be,  even  if 
ten  times  as  many  hours  were  spent  in  the  study  as  can  be, 
or  ought  to  be,  so  spent,  the  question  comes  next,  What,  then, 
can  be  done?  And  my  answer,  in  the  fewest  words,  is  this : 
The  most  and  the  best  that  we  can  hope  to  do,  is  to  plant  1 5 
in  the  pupils,  and  to  nurse  up  as  far  as  may  be,  a  genuine 
taste  and  love  for  Shakespeare's  poetry.  The  planting  and 
nursing  of  this  taste  is  purely  a  matter  of  culture,  and  not  of 
acquirement :  it  is  not  properly  giving  the  pupils  knowledge  ; 
it  is  but  opening  the  road,  and  starting  them  on  the  way  to  20 
knowledge.  And  such  a  taste,  once  well  set  in  the  mind, 
will  be,  or  at  least  stand  a  good  chance  of  being,  an  abid- 
ing principle,  a  prolific  germ  of  wholesome  and  improving 
study  :  moreover  it  will  naturally  proceed  till,  in  time,  it 
comes  to  act  as  a  strong  elective  instinct,  causing  the  mind  25 
to  gravitate  towards  what  is  good,  and  to  recoil  from  what  is 
bad  :  it  may  end  in  bringing,  say,  one  in  two  millions  to 
"  know  Shakespeare  in  an  eminent  sense  "  ;  but  it  can  hardly 
fail  to  be  a  precious  and  fruitful  gain  to  many,  perhaps  to 
most,  possibly  to  all.  30 

This  I  believe  to  be  a  thoroughly  practicable  aim.    And 
as  the  aim  itself  is  practicable,  so  there  are  practicable  ways 


70  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

for  attaining  it  or  working  towards  it.  What  these  ways  are 
or  may  be,  I  can  best  set  forth  by  tracing,  as  literally  and 
distinctly  as  I  know  how,  my  own  course  of  procedure  in 
teaching. 
5  In  the  first  place,  I  never  have  had,  never  will  have,  any 
recitations  whatever  ;  but  only  what  I  call,  simply,  exercises, 
the  pupils  reading  the  author  under  my  direction,  correction, 
and  explanation  ;  the  teacher  and  the  taught  thus  commun- 
ing together  in  the  author's  pages  for  the  time  being.4"    Nor 

10  do  I  ever  require,  though  I  commonly  advise,  that  the 
matter  to  be  read  in  class  be  read  over  by  the  pupils  in  pri- 
vate before  coming  to  the  exercise.  Such  preparation  is 
indeed  well,  but  not  necessary.  I  am  very  well  satisfied  by 
having  the  pupils  live,  breathe,  think,  feel  with  the  author 

15  while  his  words  are  on  their  lips  and  in  their  ears.  As  I 
wish  to  have  them  simply  growing,  or  getting  the  food  of 
growth,  I  do  not  care  to  have  them  making  any  conscious 
acquirement  at  all ;  my  aim  thus  always  being  to  produce 
the  utmost  possible  amount  of  silent  effect.    And  I  much 

20  prefer  to  have  the  classes  rather  small,  never  including  more 
than  twenty  pupils  ;  even  a  somewhat  smaller  number  is  still 
better.  Then,  in  Shakespeare,  I  always  have  the  pupils  read 
dramatically  right  round  and  round  the  class,  myself  calling 
the  parts.    When  a  speech  is  read,  if  the  occasion  seems  to 

25  call  for  it,  I  make  comments,  ask  questions,  or  have  the 
pupils  ask  them,  so  as  to  be  sure  that  they  understand  fairly 
what  they  are  reading.  That  done,  I  call  the  next  speech  ; 
and  so  the  reading  and  the  talking  proceed  till  the  class  time 
is  up. 

30  In  the  second  place,  as  to  the  nature  and  scope  of  these 
exercises,  or  the  parts,  elements,  particulars  they  consist  of. — 
In  Shakespeare,  the  exercise  is  a  mixed  one  of  reading, 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  Jl 

language,  and  character.  And  I  make  a  good  deal  of  hav- 
ing the  Poet's  lines  read  properly  ;  this  too  both  for  the  util- 
ity of  it  and  as  a  choice  and  refined  accomplishment,  and 
also  because  such  a  reading  of  them  greatly  enhances  the 
pleasure  of  the  exercise  both  to  the  readers  themselves  and  5 
to  the  hearers.4"  Here,  of  course,  such  points  come  in  as  the 
right  pronunciation  of  words,  the  right  place  and  degree  of 
emphasis,  the  right  pauses  and  divisions  of  sense,  the  right 
tones  and  inflections  of  voice.  But  the  particulars  that  make 
up  good  reading  are  too  well  known  to  need  dwelling  upon.  10 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  this  part  of  the  exercise  my  whole 
care  is  to  have  the  pupils  understand  what  they  are  read- 
ing, and  to  pronounce  it  so  that  an  intelligent  listener  may 
understand  it :  that  done,  I  rest  content.  But  I  tolerate 
nothing  theatrical  or  declamatory  or  oratorical  or  put  on  for  15 
effect  in  the  style  of  reading,  and  insist  on  a  clean,  clear, 
simple,  quiet  voicing  of  the  sense  and  meaning ;  no  strut, 
no  swell,  but  all  plain  and  pure  ;  that  being  my  notion  of 
tasteful  reading. 

Touching  this  point,  I  will  but  add  that  Shakspeare  is  20 
both  the  easiest  and  also  the  hardest  of  all  authors  to  read 
properly,  —  the  easiest  because  he  is  the  most  natural,  and 
the  hardest  for  the  same  reason  ;  and  for  both  these  reasons 
together  he  is  the  best  of  all  authors  for  training  people  in 
the  art  of  reading  :  for  an  art  it  is,  and  a  very  high  one  too,  25 
insomuch  that  pure  and  perfect  reading  is  one  of  the  rarest 
things  in  the  world,  as  it  is  also  one  of  the  delightfullest. 
The  best  description  of  what  it  is  that  now  occurs  to  me  is 
in  Guy  Mtmneriug,  chapter  29th,  where  Julia  Mannering 
writes  to  her  friend  how,  of  an  evening,  her  father  is  wont  30 
to  sweeten  their  home  and  its  fireside  by  the  choice  matter 
and  the  tasteful  manner  of  his  reading.    And  so  my  happy 


72  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

life  —  for  it  is  a  happy  one  —  has  little  of  better  happiness 

in  it  than  hearing  my  own  beloved  pupils  read  Shakespeare. 

As  to  the  language  part  of  the  exercise,  this  is  chiefly 

concerned  with  the  meaning  and  force  of  the  Poet's  words, 

5  but  also  enters  more  or  less  into  sundry  points  of  grammar, 
word  growth,  prosody,  and  rhetoric,  making  the  whole  as 
little  technical  as  possible.  And  I  use,  or  aim  to  use,  all 
this  for  the  one  sole  purpose  of  getting  the  pupils  to  under- 
stand what  is  immediately  before  them ;  not  looking  at  all 

10  to  any  lingual  or  philological  purposes  lying  beyond  the 
matter  directly  in  hand.  And  here  I  take  the  utmost  care 
not  to  push  the  part  of  verbal  comment  and  explanation  so 
long  or  so  far  as  to  become  dull  and  tedious  to  the  pupils. 
For  as  I  wish  them  to  study  Shakespeare,  simply  that  they 

15  may  learn  to  understand  and  to  love  his  poetry  itself,  so  I 
must  and  will  have  them  take  pleasure  in  the  process ;  and 
people  are  not  apt  to  fall  or  to  grow  in  love  with  things  that 
bore  them.  I  would  much  rather  they  should  not  fully 
understand  his  thought,  or  not  take  in  the  full  sense  of  his 

20  lines,  than  that  they  should  feel  anything  of  weariness  or 
disgust  in  the  study ;  for  the  defect  of  present  comprehen- 
sion can  easily  be  repaired  in  the  future,  but  not  so  the 
disgust.  If  they  really  love  the  poetry,  and  find  it  pleasant 
to  their  souls,  I  '11  risk  the  rest. 

25  In  truth,  average  pupils  do  not  need  nearly  so  much  of 
catechising  and  explaining  as  many  teachers  are  apt  to  sup- 
pose. I  have  known  divers  cases  where  this  process  was 
carried  to  a  very  inordinate  and  hurtful  excess,  the  matter 
being  all  chopped  into  a  fine  mince-meat  of  items  ;  questions 

30  and  topics  being  multiplied  to  the  last  degree  of  minute- 
ness and  tenuity.  Often  well-nigh  a  hundred  questions  are 
pressed  where  there  ought  not  to  be  more  than  one  or  two  ; 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  73 

the  aim  being,  apparently,  to  force  an  exhaustive  gram- 
matical study  of  the  matter.  And  exhaustive  of  the  pupil's 
interest  and  patience  it  may  well  prove  to  be.  This  is  not 
studying  Shakespeare,  but  merely  using  him  as  an  occasion 
for  studying  something  else.  Surely,  surely,  such  a  course  5 
"  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to,  good  "  :  it  is  just  the  way 
to  make  pupils  loathe  the  study  as  an  intolerable  bore,  and 
wish  the  Poet  had  never  been  born.  The  thing  to  be  aimed 
at  before  all  others  is,  to  draw  and  hold  the  pupil's  mind  in 
immediate  contact  with  the  poetry  ;  and  such  a  multitude  10 
of  mincing  questions  and  comments  is  just  a  thick  wedge 
of  tiresome  obstruction  and  separation  driven  in  between 
the  two.  In  my  own  teaching,  my  greatest  fear  commonly 
is,  lest  I  may  strangle  and  squelch  the  proper  virtue  and 
efficacy  of  the  Poet's  lines  with  my  own  incontinent  cate-  15 
chetical  and  exegetical  babble. 

Next,  for  the  character  part  of  the  exercise.  And  here 
I  have  to  say,  at  the  start,  that  I  cannot  think  it  a  good  use 
of  time  to  put  pupils  to  the  study  of  Shakespeare  at  all, 
until  they  have  got  strength  and  ripeness  of  mind  enough  20 
to  enter,  at  least  in  some  fair  measure,  into  the  transpira- 
tions of  character  in  his  persons.  For  this  is  indeed  the 
Shakespeare  of  Shakespeare.  And  the  process  is  as  far  as 
you  can  think  from  being  a  mere  formal  or  mechanical  or 
routine  handling  of  words  and  phrases  and  figures  of  speech  :  25 
it  is  nothing  less  than  to  hear  and  to  see  the  hearts  and 
souls  of  the  persons  in  what  they  say  and  do  ;  to  feel,  as 
it  were,  the  very  pulse  throbs  of  their  inner  life.  Herein 
it  is  that  Shakespeare's  unapproached  and  unapproachable 
mastery  of  human  nature  lies.  Nor  can  I  bear  to  have  his  30 
poetry  studied  merely  as  a  curious  thing  standing  outside 
of  and  apart  from  the  common  life  of  man,  but  as  drawing 


74  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

directly  into  the  living  current  of  human  interests,  feelings, 
duties,  needs,  occasions.  So  I  like  to  be  often  running  the 
Poet's  thoughts,  and  carrying  the  pupils  with  them,  right 
out  and  home  to  the  business  and  bosom  of  humanity  about 
5  them ;  into  the  follies,  vices,  and  virtues,  the  meannesses 
and  nobilities,  the  loves,  joys,  sorrows,  and  shames,  the 
lapses  and  grandeurs,  the  disciplines,  disasters,  devotions, 
and  divinities,  of  men  and  women  as  they  really  are  in  the 
world.    For  so  the  right  use  of  his  poetry  is,  to  subserve 

10  the  ends  of  life,  not  of  talk.  And  if  this  part  be  rightly 
done,  pupils  will  soon  learn  that  "  our  gentle  Shakespeare  " 
is  not  a  prodigious  enchanter  playing  with  sublime  or  gro- 
tesque imaginations  for  their  amusement,  but  a  friend  and 
brother,  all  alive  with  the  same  heart  that  is  in  them ;  and 

15  who,  while  he  is  but  little  less  than  an  angel,  is  also  at  the 
same  time  but  little  more  than  themselves ;  so  that,  begin- 
ning where  his  feet  are,  they  can  gradually  rise,  and  keep 
rising,  till  they  come  to  be  at  home  where  his  great,  deep, 
mighty  intellect  is. 

20  Such,  substantially,  and  in  some  detail,  is  the  course  I 
have  uniformly  pursued  in  my  Shakespeare  classes.  I  have 
never  cared  to  have  my  pupils  make  any  show  in  analyzing 
and  parsing  the  Poet's  language,  but  I  have  cared  much, 
very  much,  to  have  them  understand  and  enjoy  his  poetry. 

25  Accordingly  I  have  never  touched  the  former  at  all,  except 
so  far  as  was  clearly  needful  in  order  to  secure  the  latter. 
And  as  the  poetry  was  made  for  the  purpose  of  being 
enjoyed,  so,  when  I  have  seen  the  pupils  enjoying  it,  this 
has  been  to  me  sufficient  proof  that  they  rightly  under- 

30  stood  it.  True,  I  have  never  had,  nor  have  I  ever  wanted, 
any  available  but  cheap  percentages  of  proficiency  to  set 
off  my  work  :   perhaps  my  pupils  have  seldom  had  any  idea 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  75 

of  what  they  were  getting  from  the  study.  Very  well ;  then 
it  has  at  least  not  fostered  conceit  in  them  :  so  I  wished 
to  have  it,  so  was  glad  to  have  it :  the  results  I  aimed  at 
were  far  off  in  the  future  ;  nor  have  I  had  any  fear  of  those 
results  failing  to  emerge  in  due  time.  In  fact,  I  cleave  5 
rather  fondly  to  the  hope  of  being  remembered  by  my 
pupils  with  some  affection  after  I  shall  be  no  more  ;  and 
I  know  right  well  that  the  best  fruits  of  the  best  mental 
planting  have  and  must  have  a  pretty  long  interval  between 
the  seedtime  and  the  harvest."1"  10 

Once,  indeed,  and  it  was  my  very  first  attempt,  having 
a  class  of  highly  intelligent  young  ladies,  I  undertook  to 
put  them  through  a  pretty  severe  drill  in  prosody  :  after 
enduring  it  awhile  they  remonstrated  with  me,  giving  me 
to  understand  that  they  wanted  the  light  and  pleasure  15 
properly  belonging  to  the  study,  and  not  the  tediousness 
that  pedantry  or  mere  technical  learning  could  force  into 
it.  They  were  right ;  and  herein  I  probably  learned  more 
from  them  than  they  did  from  me.  And  so  teaching  of 
Shakespeare  has  been  just  the  happiest  occupation  of  my  20 
life  :  the  wholesomest  and  most  tonic  too  ;  disposing  me 
more  than  any  other  to  severe  and  earnest  thought :  no 
drudgery  in  it,  no  dullness  about  it ;  but  "  as  full  of  spirit 
as  the  month  of  May,"  and  joyous  as  Wordsworth's  lark 
hiding  himself  in  the  light  of  morning,  and  25 

With  a  soul  as  strong  as  a  mountain  river 
Pouring  out  praise  to  the  Almighty  Giver. 

But  now  certain  wise  ones  are  telling  us  that  this  is  all 
wrong  ;    that  teaching  Shakespeare  in  this  way  is  making, 
or  tending  to  make,  the  study  "an   entertainment,"  and  30 
so  not  the  "  noble  study  "  that  it  ought  to  be  ;  meaning,  I 
suppose,  by  noble  study,  such  a  study  as  would  bring  the 


76  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

pupils  to  know  Shakespeare  in  the  eminent  sense  remarked 
upon  before.  What  is  this  but  to  proceed  in  the  work  just 
as  if  the  pupils  were  to  become  Shakespeareans  ;  that  is, 
specialists  in  that  particular  line? 

5  Thus  they  would  import  into  this  study  the  same  false 
and  vicious  mode  that  has  come  to  be  used  with  the  classics 
in  our  colleges.  This  mode  is,  to  keep  pegging  away  con- 
tinually at  points  of  grammar  and  etymology,  so  as  to  leave 
no  time  or  thought  for  the  sense  and  meaning  of  what  is 

io  read.  Thus  the  classical  author  is  used  merely  or  mainly 
for  the  purpose  of  teaching  the  grammar,  not  the  grammar 
for  the  purpose  of  understanding  the  author.  For  the  prac- 
tical upshot  of  such  a  course  is,  to  have  the  student  learn 
what  modern  linguists  and  grammarians  have  compiled,  not 

15  what  the  old  Greeks  and  Romans  thought.  This  hind-first  or 
hindmost-foremost  process  has  grown  to  be  a  dreadful  nui- 
sance in  our  practice,  making  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin 
inexpressibly  lifeless  and  wearisome  ;  and  utterly  fruitless 
withal  as  regards  real  growth  of  mind  and  culture  of  taste. 

20  Some  years  ago,  I  had  a  talk  on  this  subject  with  our 
late  venerable  patriarch  of  American  letters,  whose  only 
grandson  had  then  recently  graduated  from  college.  He 
told  me  he  had  gathered  from  the  young  man  to  what  a 
wasteful  and  vicious  extreme  the  thing  was  carried ;  and  he 

25  spoke  in  terms  of  severe  censure  and  reprobation  of  the 
custom.  And  so  I  have  heard  how  a  very  learned  professor 
one  day  spent  the  time  of  a  whole  recitation  in  talking  about 
a  comma  that  had  been  inserted  in  a  Greek  text;  telling  the 
class  who  inserted  it,  and  when  and  why  he  did  so  ;  also 

30  who  had  since  accepted  it,  and  who  had  since  rejected  it, 
and  when  and  why  ;  also  what  effect  the  insertion  had,  and 
what  the  omission,  on  the  sense  of  the  passage.     Now,  if 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  jj 

the  students  had  all  been  predestined  or  predetermined 
specialists  in  Greek,  this  might  possibly  have  been  the  right 
way ;  but,  as  they  were  not  so  predestined  or  predeter- 
mined, the  way  was  most  certainly  wrong,  and  a  worse  one 
could  hardly  have  been  taken.  For  the  right  course  of  study  5 
for  those  who  are  to  be  specialists  in  this  or  that  pursuit  is 
one  thing  ;  the  right  course  for  those  who  cannot  be,  and 
have  no  thought  of  being,  specialists  is  a  very  different 
thing  ;  and  to  transfer  the  former  course  to  the  latter  class, 
is  a  most  preposterous  blunder,  yes,  and  a  most  mischievous  10 
one  too. 

I  have  lately  been  given  to  understand  that  some  of  our 
best  classical  teachers  have  become  sensible  of  this  great 
error,  and  have  set  to  work  to  correct  it  in  practice.  I  under- 
stand also  that  noble  old  Harvard,  wise  in  this,  as  in  many  15 
other  things,  is  leading  the  return  to  the  older  and  better 
way.  I  hope  most  devoutly  that  it  is  so  ;  for  the  proper  effect 
of  the  modern  way  can  hardly  be  any  other  than  to  atten- 
uate and  chill  and  dwarf  the  student's  better  faculties.  The 
thing,  to  be  sure,  has  been  done  in  the  name  of  thoroughness,  20 
but  I  believe  it  has  proved  thorough  to  no  end  but  that  of 
unsinewing  the  mind,  and  drying  the  sap  out  of  it. 

But  now  the  selfsame  false  mode  that  has  thus  run  itself 
into  the  ground  in  classical  study  must,  it  seems,  be  used 
in  the  study  of  English  authors.  For  so  the  wise  ones  25 
aforesaid,  those  who  are  for  having  everybody  know  Shake- 
speare in  an  eminent  sense,  would,  apparently,  have  the 
study  ennobled  by  continual  diversions  into  the  science 
of  language,  exercising  the  pupil's  logical  faculty,  or  rather 
his  memory,  with  points  of  etymology,  grammar,  historical  30 
usage,  etc. ;  points  that  are,  or  may  be  made  to  appear, 
scientifically  demonstrable.    Thus  the  thing  they  seem  to 


J8  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

have  in  view  is  about  the  same  that  certain  positivist 
thinkers  mean  when  they  would  persuade  us  that  no  knowl- 
edge is  really  worth  having  but  what  stands  on  a  basis  of 
scientific  demonstration,  so  that  we  not  only  may  be  certain 
5  of  its  truth,  but  cannot  possibly  be  otherwise. 

So  I  have  somewhere  read  of  a  certain  mathematician 
who,  on  reading  Paradise  Lost,  made  this  profound  criti- 
cism, that  "  it  was  a  very  pretty  piece  of  work,  but  he  did 
not  see  that  it  proved  anything."    But,  if  he  had  studied 

10  it  in  the  modern  way  of  studying  poetry,  he  would  have 
found  that  divers  things  might  be  proved  from  it ;  as,  for 
instance,  that  a  metaphor  and  a  simile  are  at  bottom  one 
and  the  same  thing,  differing  only  in  form,  and  that  the 
author  very  seldom,  if  ever,  makes   use   of  the  word  its. 

15  And  so  the  singing  of  a  bird  does  not  prove  anything  scien- 
tifically; and  your  best  way  of  getting  scientific  knowledge 
about  the  little  creature  is  by  dissecting  him,  so  as  to  find 
out  where  the  music  comes  from,  and  how  it  is  made.  And 
so,   again,   what   good   can   the    flowers  growing   on   your 

20  mother's  grave  do  you,  unless  you  use  them  as  things  to 
"peep  and  botanize"  about,  like  the  "philosopher"  in 
one  of  Wordsworth's  poems? 

The  study  of  Shakespeare  an  entertainment?  Yes,  to  be 
sure,  precisely  that,  if  you  please  to  call  it  so  ;  a  pastime, 

25  a  recreation,  a  delight.  This  is  just  what,  in  my  notion  of 
things,  such  a  study  ought  to  be.  Why,  what  else  should 
it  be?  It  is  just  what  I  have  always  tried  my  utmost,  and 
I  trust  I  may  say  with  some  little  success,  to  make  the 
study.    Shakespeare's  poetry,  has  it  not  a  right  to  be  to  us 

30  a  perennial  spring  of  sweetness  and  refreshment,  a  thing 

Round  which,  with  tendrils  strong  as  flesh  and  blood, 
Our  pastime  and  our  happiness  may  grow  ? 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  79 

And  so  my  supreme  desire  has  been  that  the  time  spent  in 
the  study  should  be,  to  the  pupils,  brimful  of  quiet  gladness 
and  pleasantness  ;  and  in  so  far  as  at  any  time  it  has  not 
been  so,  just  so  far  I  have  regarded  my  work  as  a  sorry 
failure,  and  have  determined  to  try  and  do  better  next  5 
time.  What  the  dickens  —  I  beg  everybody's  pardon  — 
what  can  be  the  proper  use  of  studying  Shakespeare's  poetry 
without  enjoyment?  Or  do  you  suppose  that  any  one  can 
really  delight  in  his  poetry,  without  reaping  therefrom  the 
highest  and  purest  benefit?  The  delectation  is  itself  the  10 
appropriate  earnest  and  proof  that  the  student  is  drinking 
in  —  without  knowing  it  indeed,  and  all  the  better  for  that 
—  just  the  truest,  deepest,  finest  culture  that  any  poetry 
can  give.  What  touches  the  mind's  heart  is  apt  to  cause 
pleasure;  what  merely  grubs  in  its  outskirts  and  suburbs  15 
is  apt  to  be  tedious  and  dull.  Assuredly,  therefore,  if  a 
teacher  finds  that  his  or  her  pupils,  or  any  of  them,  cannot 
be  wooed  and  won  to  take  pleasure  in  the  study  of  Shake- 
speare, then  either  the  teacher  should  forthwith  go  to  teach- 
ing something  else,  or  the  pupils  should  be  put  to  some  20 
other  study. 

What  wise  and  wonderful  ideas  our  progressive  oblivion 
of  the  past  is  putting  into  people's  heads  !  Why,  it  has 
been,  from  time  immemorial,  a  settled  axiom,  that  the  proper 
aim  of  poetry  is  to  please ;  of  the  highest  poetry,  to  make  25 
wisdom  and  virtue  pleasant,  to  crown  the  True  and  the  Good 
with  delight  and  joy.  This  is  the  very  constituent  of  the 
poet's  art ;  that  without  which  it  has  no  adequate  reason 
for  being.  To  clothe  the  austere  forms  of  truth  and  wisdom 
with  heart-taking  beauty  and  sweetness,  is  its  life  and  law.  30 
But  then  it  is  only  when  poetry  is  read  as  poetry  that  it  is 
bound  to  please.    When  or  so  far  as  it  is  studied  only  as 


80  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

grammar  or  logic,  it  has  a  perfect  right  to  be  unpleasant. 
Of  course  I  hold  that  poetry,  especially  Shakespeare's,  ought 
to  be  read  as  poetry ;  and  when  it  is  not  read  with  pleasure, 
the  right  grace  and  profit  of  the  reading  are  missed.  For 
5  the  proper  instructiveness  of  poetry  is  essentially  dependent 
on  its  pleasantness ;  whereas  in  other  forms  of  writing  this 
order  is  or  may  be  reversed.  The  sense  or  the  conscience 
of  what  is  morally  good  and  right  should  indeed  have  a  hand, 
and  a  prerogative  hand,  in  shaping  our  pleasures  ;  and  so, 

io  to  be  sure,  it  must  be,  else  the  pleasures  will  needs  be  tran- 
sient, and  even  the  seedtime  of  future  pains.  So  right- 
minded  people  ought  to  desire,  and  do  desire,  to  find 
pleasure  in  what  is  right  and  good  ;  the  highest  pleasure  in 
what  is  rightest  and  best :  nevertheless  the  pleasure  of  the 

15  thing  is  what  puts  its  healing,  purifying,  regenerating  virtue 
into  action;  and  to  converse  with  what  is  in  itself  beautiful 
and  good  without  tasting  any  pleasantness  in  it,  is  or  may 
be  a  positive  harm. 

But,  indeed,  our  education  has  totally  lost  the  idea  of 

20  culture,  and  consequently  has  thrown  aside  the  proper 
methods  of  it :  it  makes  no  account  of  anything  but  acquire- 
ments. And  the  reason  seems  to  be  somewhat  as  follows  : 
—  The  process  of  culture  is  silent  and  unconscious,  because 
it  works  deep  in  the  mind  ;  the  process  of  acquirement  is 

25  conscious  and  loud,  because  its  work  is  all  on  the  mind's 
surface.  Moreover  the  former  is  exceedingly  slow,  insomuch 
as  to  yield  from  day  to  day  no  audible  results,  and  so  cannot 
be  made  available  for  effect  in  recitation  :  the  latter  is  rapid, 
yielding  recitable  results  from  hour  to  hour  ;  the  effect  comes 

30  quickly,  is  quickly  told  in  recitation,  and  makes  a  splendid 
appearance,  thus  tickling  the  vanity  of  pupils  mightily,  as 
also  of  their  loving  (self-loving?)  parents. 


SHAKESPEARE   IN    SCHOOL  8l 

But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  the  culture  that  you  have 
once  got  you  thenceforward  keep,  and  can  nowise  part  with 
or  lose  it ;  slow  in  coming,  it  comes  to  stay  with  you,  and 
to  be  an  indelible  part  of  you  :  whereas  your  acquirement 
is,  for  the  most  part,  quickly  got,  and  as  quickly  lost ;  for,  5 
indeed,  it  makes  no  part  of  the  mind,  but  merely  hangs  or 
sticks  on  its  outside.  So,  here,  the  pupil  just  crams  in  study, 
disgorges  in  recitation,  and  then  forgets  it  all,  to  go  through 
another  like  round  of  cramming,  disgorging,  and  forgetting. 
Thus  the  pulse  of  your  acquirement  is  easily  counted,  and  10 
foots  up  superbly  from  day  to  day ;  but  nobody  can  count 
the  pulse  of  your  culture,  for  it  has  none,  at  least  none  that 
is  or  can  be  perceived.  In  other  words,  the  course  of  cul- 
ture is  dimly  marked  by  years  ;  that  of  acquirement  is  plainly 
marked  by  hours.  1 5 

And  so  no  one  can  parse,  or  cares  to  parse,  the  delight 
he  has  in  Shakespeare,  for  the  parsing  just  kills  the  delight : 
the  culture  one  gets  from  studying  his  poetry  as  poetry,  he 
can  nowise  recite,  for  it  is  not  a  reci  table  thing,  and  he  can 
tell  you  nothing  about  it :  he  can  only  say  he  loves  the  20 
poetry,  and  that  talking  with  it  somehow  recreates  and 
refreshes  him.  But  any  one  can  easily  learn  to  parse  the 
Poet's  words  :  what  he  gets  from  studying  his  poetry  as 
grammar,  or  logic,  or  rhetoric,  or  prosody,  this  he  can  recite, 
can  talk  glibly  about  it ;  but  it  stirs  no  love  in  him,  has  no  25 
recreation  or  refreshment  for  him  at  all;  none,  that  is, 
unless  by  touching  his  vanity,  and  putting  him  in  love  with 
himself  for  the  pretty  show  he  makes  in  recitation.  There 
is,  to  be  sure,  a  way  of  handling  the  study  of  Shakespeare, 
whereby  the  pupils  may  be  led  to  take  pleasure  not  so  much  30 
in  his  poetry  itself  as  in  their  own  supposed  knowledge  and 
appreciation  of  it.    That  way,  however,  I  just  do  not  believe 


82  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

in  at  all ;  no  !  not  even  though  it  be  the  right  way  for 
bringing  pupils  to  know  Shakespeare  in  the  eminent  sense. 
I  have  myself  learned  him,  if  I  may  claim  to  know  him  at  all, 
in  a  very  uneminent  sense,  and  have  for  more  than  forty 
5  years  been  drawn  onwards  in  the  study  purely  by  the  natural 
pleasantness  of  his  poetry  ;  and  so  I  am  content  to  have 
others  do.  Thus,  you  see,  it  has  never  been  with  me 
"  a  noble  study  "  at  all. 

Well  now,  our  education  is  continually  saying,  in  effect  if 

10  not  in  words,  "What  is  the  use  of  pursuing  such  studies,  or 
pursuing  them  in  such  a  way,  as  can  produce  no  available 
results,  nothing  to  show,  from  day  to  day?  Put  away  your 
slow  thing,  whose  course  is  but  faintly  marked  even  by  years, 
and  give  us  the  spry  thing,  that  marks  its  course  brilliantly 

15  by  days,  perhaps  by  hours.  Let  the  clock  of  our  progress 
tick  loudly,  that  we  may  always  know  just  where  it  is,  and 
just  where  we  are.  Except  we  can  count  the  pulse  of  your 
process,  we  will  not  believe  there  is  any  life  or  virtue  in  it. 
None  of  your  silences  for  us,  if  you  please  !  " 

20  A  few  words  now  on  another,  yet  nearly  connected,  topic, 
and  I  have  done.  —  I  have  long  thought,  and  the  thought 
has  kept  strengthening  with  me  from  year  to  year,  that  our 
educational  work  proceeds  altogether  too  much  by  recita- 
tions.   Our  school  routine  is  now  a  steady  stream  of  these, 

25  so  that  teachers  have  no  time  for  anything  else;  the  pupils 
being  thus  held  in  a  continual  process  of  alternate  crammings 
and  disgorgings.  As  part  and  parcel  of  this  recitation  sys- 
tem, we  must  have  frequent  examinations  and  exhibitions, 
for  a  more  emphatic  marking  of  our  progress.    The  thing 

30  has  grown  to  the  height  of  a  monstrous  abuse,  and  is  threat- 
ening most  serious  consequences.  It  is  a  huge  perpetual 
motion  of  forcing  and   high   pressure ;  no  possible  pains 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  83 

being  spared  to  keep  the  pupils  intensely  conscious  of  their 
proficiency,  or  of  their  deficiency,  as  the  case  may  be  : 
motives  of  pride,  vanity,  shame,  ambition,  rivalry,  emula- 
tion, are  constantly  appealed  to  and  stimulated,  and  the 
nervous  system  kept  boiling  hot  with  them.  Thus,  to  make  5 
the  love  of  knowledge  sprout  soon  enough,  and  grow  fast 
and  strong  enough  for  our  ideas,  we  are  all  the  while  dosing 
and  provoking  it  with  a  sort  of  mental  and  moral  canthar- 
ides.  Surely,  the  old  arguments  of  the  rod  and  the  ferule, 
as  persuasives  to  diligence,  were  far  wholesomer,  yes,  and  10 
far  kinder  too,  than  this  constant  application  of  intellectual 
drugs  and  high  wines  :  the  former  only  made  the  skin  tingle 
and  smart  a  little  while,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it ;  whereas 
the  latter  plants  its  pains  within  the  very  house  of  life,  and 
leaves  them  rankling  and  festering  there."1"  So  our  way  is,  to  15 
spare  the  skin  and  kill  the  heart. 

And,  if  the  thing  is  not  spoiling  the  boys,  it  is  at  all 
events  killing  the  girls. +  For,  as  a  general  rule,  girls  are,  I 
take  it,  more  sensitive  and  excitable  naturally  than  boys, 
and  therefore  more  liable  to  have  their  brain  and  nervous  20 
system  fatally  wronged  and  diseased  by  this  dreadful,  this 
cruel,  fomenting  with  unnatural  stimulants  and  provocatives. 
To  be  sure,  it  makes  them  preternaturally  bright  and  inter- 
esting for  a  while,  and  we  think  the  process  is  working  glori- 
ously :  but  this  is  all  because  the  dear  creatures  have  come  25 
to  blossom  at  a  time  when  as  yet  the  leaves  should  not 
have  put  forth  ;  and  so,  when  the  proper  time  arrives  for 
them  to  be  in  the  full  bloom  of  womanhood,  leaf,  blossom, 
and  all  are  gone,  leaving  them  faded  and  withered  and  joy- 
less; and  chronic  ill  health,  premature  old  age,  untimely  30 
death,  are  their  lot  and  portion.  Of  course,  the  thing  can- 
not fail  to  have  the  effect  of  devitalizing  and  demoralizing 


84  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

and  dwarfing  the  mind  itself.    The  bright  glow  in  its  cheeks 
is  but  the  hectic  flush  of  a  consumptive  state. 

This  is  no  fancy  picture,  no  dream  of  speculative  imagi- 
nation :  it  is  only  too  true  in  matter  of  fact ;  as  any  one 
5  may  see,  or  rather  as  no  one  can  choose  but  see,  who  uses 
his  eyes  upon  what  is  going  on  about  us.  Why,  Massachusetts 
cannot  now  build  asylums  fast  enough  for  her  multiplying 
insane ;  and,  if  things  keep  on  as  they  are  now  going,  the 
chances  are  that  the  whole  State  will  in  no  very  long  time 

10  come  to  be  almost  one  continuous  hospital  of  lunatics.  All 
this  proceeds  naturally  and  in  course  from  our  restless  and 
reckless  insistence  on  forcing  what  is,  after  all,  but  a  showy, 
barren,  conceited  intellectualism.  But,  indeed,  the  conse- 
quences of  this  thing  are,  some  of  them,  too  appalling  to  be 

15  so  much  as  hinted  here  :  I  can  but  speak  the  word  mother- 
hood, —  a  word  even  more  laden  with  tenderness  and  sacred 
meaning  than  womanhood. 

I  have  talked  with  a  good  many  of  our  best  teachers  on 
this  subject,  never  with  any  one  who  did  not  express  a  full 

20  concurrence  with  me  in  the  opinion,  that  the  recitation 
business  is  shockingly  and  ruinously  overworked  in  our 
teaching.  But  they  say  they  can  do  nothing,  or  at  the  best 
very  little,  to  help  it ;  the  public  will  have  it  so ;  the  thing 
has  come  to  be  a  deep-seated  chronic  disease  in  our  educa- 

25  tional  system  :  this  disease  has  got  to  run  its  course  and 
work  itself  through ;  it  is  to  be  hoped  that,  when  matters 
are  at  the  worst,  they  will  take  a  turn,  and  begin  to  mend  : 
at  all  events,  time  alone  can  work-out  a  redress  of  the  wrong. 
In  all  this  they  are  perfectly  right;  so  that  the  blame  of  the 

30  thing  nowise  rests  with  them.  Neither  does  the  blame  rest 
ultimately  with  superintendents,  supervisors,  or  committee- 
men, where  Gail  Hamilton,  in  her  recent  book,  places  it : 


SHAKESPEARE   IN    SCHOOL  85 

the  trouble  lies  further  back,  in  the  state  of  the  public  mind 
itself,  which  has  for  a  long  time  been  industriously,  .inces- 
santly, systematically,  perverted,  corrupted,  depraved,  by 
plausible  but  shallow  innovators  and  quacks. 

The  real  truth  is,  things  have  come  to  that  pass  with  us,  5 
that  parents  will  not  believe  there  is  or  can  be  any  real 
growth  of  mind  in  their  children,  unless  they  can  see  them 
growing  from  day  to  day ;  whereas  a  growing  that  can  be 
so  seen  is  of  course  just  no  growing  at  all,  but  only  a  bloat- 
ing ;  which  I  believe  I  have  said  somewhere  before.  In  this  10 
wretched  mispersuasion,  they  use  all  possible  means  to  foster 
in  their  children  a  morbid  habit  of  conscious  acquirement ; 
and  a  system  of  recitations,  examinations,  and  exhibitions 
to  keep  the  process  hot  and  steaming,  is  the  thing  to  do  it. 

But  I  more  than  suspect  the  primitive  root  of  the  difficulty  15 
lies  deeper  still,  and  is  just  here  :  That,  having  grown  into  a 
secret  disrelish  of  the  old  religion  of  our  fathers,  as  being  too 
objective  in  its  nature,  and  too  firm  and  solid  in  its  objec- 
tiveness,  to  suit  our  taste,  we  have  turned  to  an  idolatry  of 
intellect  and  knowledge  ;  have  no  faith  in  anything,  no  love  20 
for  anything,  but  what  we  spin,  or  seem  to  spin,  out  of  our 
own  minds.  So  in  the  idolatry  of  intellect,  as  in  other  idol- 
atries, the  marble  statue  with  which  it  begins  naturally  comes, 
in  process  of  time,  to  be  put  aside  as  too  weighty,  too  ex- 
pensive, and  too  still,  and  to  be  replaced  with  a  hollow  and  25 
worthless  image  all  made  up  of  paper  and  paint.  And  the 
cheaper  and  falser  the  idol  is,  the  more  eagerly  do  the 
devotees  cut  and  scourge  themselves  in  the  worship  of  it. 
Hence  the  prating  and  pretentious  intellectualism  which  we 
pursue  with  such  suicidal  eagerness.  3° 

I  must  add,  that  of  the  same  family  with  the  cant  spoken 
of  before  is  that  other  canting  phrase  now  so  rife  among  us 


86  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

about  "  the  higher  education."  The  lower  education,  yes, 
the  lower,  is  what  we  want ;  and  if  this  be  duly  cared  for, 
the  higher  may  be  safely  left  to  take  care  of  itself.  The 
latter  will  then  come,  and  so  it  ought  to  come,  of  its  own 

5  accord,  just  as  fast  and  as  far  as  the  former  finds  or  develops 
the  individual  aptitude  for  it ;  and  the  attempting  to  give  it 
regardless  of  such  aptitude  can  only  do  what  it  is  now  doing, 
namely,  spoil  a  great  many  people  for  all  useful  handwork, 
without  fitting  them  for  any  sort  of  headwork. 

10  Of  course  there  are  some  studies  which  may,  perhaps  must, 
proceed  more  or  less  by  recitation.  But,  as  a  perpetual  show 
of  mind  in  the  young  is  and  can  be  nothing  but  a  perpetual 
sham,  so  I  am  and  long  have  been  perfectly  satisfied  that  at 
least  three  fourths  of  our  recitations  ought  to  be  abandoned 

15  with  all  practicable  speed,  and  be  replaced  by  the  better 
methods  of  our  fathers,  —  methods  that  hold  fast  to  the  old 
law  of  what  Dr.  William  B.  Carpenter  terms  "  unconscious 
cerebration,"  which  is  indeed  the  irrepealable  law  of  all  true 
mental  growth  and  all  right  intellectual  health.    Nay,  more  ; 

20  the  best  results  of  the  best  thinking  in  the  best  and  ripest 
heads  come  under  the  operation  of  the  selfsame  law,  —  just 
that,  and  no  other. 

Assuredly,  therefore,  the  need  now  most  urgently  pressing 
upon  us  is,  to  have  vastly  more  of  growth,  and  vastly  less  of 

25  manufacture,  in  our  education  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  the 
school  be  altogether  more  a  garden,  and  altogether  less  a 
mill.  And  a  garden,  especially  with  the  rich  multitudinous 
flora  of  Shakespeare  blooming  and  breathing  in  it,  can  it  be, 
ought  it  to  be,  other  than  a  pleasant  and  happy  place? 

30  The  child  whose  love  is  here  at  least  doth  reap 

One  precious  gain,  that  he  forgets  himself. 


PREFACE    TO    THE    HARVARD 
EDITION  OF  SHAKESPEARE 

The  most  obvious  peculiarity  of  this  edition  is,  that  it 
has  two  sets  of  notes ;  one  mainly  devoted  to  explain- 
ing the  text,  and  printed  at  the  foot  of  the  page  ;  the  other 
mostly  occupied  with  matters  of  textual  comment  and  criti- 
cism, and  printed  at  the  end  of  each  play.+  Of  course  the  5 
purpose  of  this  double  annotation  is,  to  suit  the  work,  as  far 
as  practicable,  to  the  uses  both  of  the  general  reader  and  of 
the  special  student.  Now,  whatever  of  explanation  general 
readers  may  need,  they  naturally  prefer  to  have  it  directly 
before  them ;  and  in  at  least  nine  cases  out  of  ten  they  will  10 
pass  over  an  obscure  word  or  phrase  or  allusion  without  un- 
derstanding it,  rather  than  stay  to  look  lip  the  explanation 
either  in  another  volume  or  in  another  part  of  the  same 
volume.  Often,  too,  in  case  the  explanation  be  not  directly 
at  hand,  they  will  go  elsewhere  in  quest  of  it,  and  then  find,  15 
after  all,  that  the  editor  has  left  the  matter  unexplained;  so 
that  the  search  will  be  to  no  purpose  :  whereas,  with  the  plan 
of  footnotes,  they  will  commonly  see  at  once  how  the  matter 
stands,  and  what  they  have  to  expect,  and  so  will  be  spared 
the  labor  and  vexation  of  a  fruitless  quest.  20 

It  scarce  need  be  said  that  with  special  students  the  case 
is  very  different."4"  In  studying  such  an  author  as  Shake- 
speare, these  naturally  expect  to  light  upon  many  things  for 
the  full  discussion  or  elucidation  of  which  they  will  have  to 

87 


88  HUDSON'S    ESSAYS 

go  beyond  the  page  before  them ;  though  I  believe  even 
these  like  to  have  the  matter  within  convenient  reach  and 
easy  reference.  At  all  events,  they  are,  or  well  may  be, 
much  less  apt  to  get  so  intent  on  the  author's  thought,  and 
5  so  drawn  onwards  by  the  interest  of  the  work,  but  that  they 
can  readily  pause,  and  turn  elsewhere,  to  study  out  such 
points  as  may  call,  or  seem  to  call,  for  particular  investiga- 
tion. In  fact,  general  readers,  for  the  most  part,  pay  little 
or  no  attention  to  the  language  of  what  they  are  reading, 

10  and  seldom  if  ever  interrogate,  or  even  think  of,  the  words, 
save  when  the  interest  of  the  matter  is  choked  or  checked 
by  some  strangeness  or  obscurity  of  expression ;  whereas 
special  students  commonly  are  or  should  be  carrying  on  a 
silent  process  of  verbal  interrogation,  even  when  the  matter 

15  is  their  chief  concern  :  and  as  these  are  more  sharp-sighted 
and  more  on  the  lookout  for  verbal  difficulties  than  the 
former,  so  they  are  less  impatient  of  the  pauses  required 
for  out-of-the-way  explanation. 

This  edition  has  been  undertaken,  and   the  plan  of  it 

20  shaped,  with  a  special  view  to  meeting  what  is  believed  to 
be  a  general  want,  and  what  has  indeed  been  repeatedly 
urged  as  such  within  the  last  few  years. +  It  has  been  said, 
and,  I  think,  justly  said,  that  a  need  is  widely  felt  of  an 
edition  of  Shakespeare,  with  such  and  so  much  of  explana- 

25  tory  comment  as  may  suffice  for  the  state  of  those  unlearned 
but  sane-thoughted  and  earnest  readers  who  have,  or  wish  to 
have,  their  tastes  raised  and  set  to  a  higher  and  heartier  kind 
of  mental  feeding  than  the  literary  smoke  and  chaff  of  the 
time.     I    have    known    many    bright    and    upward-looking 

30  minds,  —  minds  honestly  craving  to  drink  from  the  higher 
and  purer  springs  of  intellectual  power  and  beauty,  —  who 
were  frank  to  own  that  it  was  a  sin  and  a  shame  not  to  love 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  89 

Shakespeare,  but  who  could  hardly,  if  at  all,  make  that  love 
come  free  and  natural  to  them. 

To  be  plying  such  minds  with  arguments  of  duty,  or  with 
thoughts  of  the  good  to  be  gained  by  standing  through  un- 
pleasant taskwork,  seems  to  me  a  rather  ungracious  and  5 
impotent  business.  For  it  has  long  been  a  settled  axiom 
that  the  proper  force  of  poetry  is  to  please ;  of  the  highest 
poetry,  to  make  wisdom  and  virtue  pleasant,  to  crown  the 
True  and  the  Good  with  delight  and  joy.+  This  is  the  very 
constituent  of  the  poet's  art ;  that  without  which  it  has  no  10 
adequate  reason  for  being.  To  clothe  the  austere  forms  of 
truth  and  wisdom  with  heart- taking  beauty  and  sweetness,  is 
its  life  and  law.  Poetry,  then,  ought  of  course  to  be  read  as 
poetry  ;  and  when  not  read  with  pleasure,  the  right  grace  and 
profit  of  the  reading  are  missed.  For  the  proper  instructive-  15 
ness  of  poetry  is  essentially  dependent  on  its  pleasantness ; 
whereas  in  other  forms  of  writing  this  order  is  or  may  be 
reversed.  The  sense  or  the  conscience  of  what  is  morally 
good  and  right  should  indeed  have  a  hand,  and  a  prerogative 
hand,  in  shaping  our  pleasures ;  and  so  indeed  it  must  be,  20 
else  the  pleasures  will  needs  be  transient,  and  even  the  seed- 
time of  future  pains.  So  right-minded  people  ought  to 
desire,  and  do  desire,  to  find  pleasure  in  what  is  right  and 
good  ;  the  highest  pleasure  in  what  is  rightest  and  best : 
nevertheless  the  pleasure  of  the  thing  is  what  puts  its  healing,  25 
purifying,  regenerating  virtue  into  act ;  and  to  converse  with 
what  is  in  itself  beautiful  and  good  without  tasting  any  pleas- 
antness in  it,  is  or  may  be  a  positive  harm. 

How,  then,  in  reference  to  Shakespeare,  is  the  case  of 
common  readers  to  be  met?    As  before  remarked,  to  urge  30 
reasons  of  duty  is  quite  from  the  purpose  :  reading  Shake- 
speare as  duty  and  without  pleasure  is  of  no  use,  save  as  it 


go  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

may  lift  and  draw  them  into  a  sense  of  his  pleasantness. 
The  question  is,  therefore,  how  to  make  him  pleasant  and 
attractive  to  them ;  how  to  put  him  before  them,  so  that  his 
spirit  may  have  a  fair  chance  to  breathe  into  them,  and 

5  quicken  their  congenial  susceptibilities  ;  for,  surely,  his  soul 
and  theirs  are  essentially  attuned  to  the  same  music.  Doubt- 
less a  full  sense  of  his  pleasantness  is  not  to  be  extemporized  : 
with  most  of  us,  nay,  with  the  best  of  us,  this  is  and  must  be 
a  matter  of  growth  :   none  but  Shakespeare  himself  can  edu- 

10  cate  us  into  a  love  of  Shakespeare  ;  and  such  education, 
indeed  all  education,  is  a  work  of  time.  But  I  must  insist 
upon  it,  that  his  works  can  and  should  be  so  edited,  that 
average  readers  may  find  enough  of  pleasantness  in  them 
from  the  first  to  hold  them  to  the  perusal  :  and  when  they 

1 5  have  been  so  held  long  enough  for  the  workmanship  to  steal 
its  virtue  and  sweetness  into  them,  then  they  will  be  naturally 
and  freely  carried  onwards  to  the  condition  where  "  love  is 
an  unerring  light,  and  joy  its  own  security." 

These  remarks,  I  believe,  indicate,  as  well  as  I  know  how 

20  to  do,  my  idea  —  I  can  hardly  say,  I  dare  not  say,  my  ideal  — 
of  what  a  popular  edition  of  Shakespeare  ought  to  be.+  The 
editorial  parts  should,  as  far  as  possible,  be  so  cast  and  tem- 
pered and  ordered  as  to  make  the  Poet's  pages  pleasant  and 
attractive  to  common  minds.    Generally  to  such  minds,  and 

25  often  even  to  uncommon  minds,  Shakespeare's  world  may 
well  seem  at  first  a  strange  world,  —  strange  not  only  for  the 
spiritualized  realism  of  it,  but  because  it  is  so  much  more 
deeply  and  truly  natural  than  the  book  world  to  which  they 
have  been  accustomed.    The  strangeness  of  the  place,  to- 

30  gether  with  the  difficulty  they  find  in  clearly  seeing  the  real 
forms  and  relations  of  the  objects  before  them,  is  apt  to  ren- 
der the  place  unattractive,  if  not  positively  repulsive,  to  them. 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  91 

The  place  is  so  emphatically  the  native  home  of  both  the  soul 
and  the  senses,  that  they  feel  lost  in  it;  and  this  because 
they  have  so  long  traveled  in  literary  regions  where  the  soul 
and  the  senses  have  been  trained  into  an  estrangement  from 
their  proper  home.  It  is  like  coming  back  to  realities  after  5 
having  strayed  among  shadows  till  the  shadows  have  come  to 
seem  realities. 

Not  seldom  the  very  naturalness  of  Shakespeare's  world 
frightens  unaccustomed  readers :  they  find,  or  feel,  so  to 
speak,  a  kind  of  estranged  familiarity  about  it,  as  of  a  place  10 
they  have  once  known,  but  have  lost  the  memory  of ;  so  that 
it  seems  to  them  a  land  peopled  with  the  ghosts  of  what  had 
long  ago  been  to  them  real  living  things.  Thus  the  effect,  for 
some  time,  is  rather  to  scare  and  chill  their  interest  than  to 
kindle  and  heighten  it.  And  the  Poet  is  continually  popping  15 
his  thoughts  upon  them  so  pointedly,  so  vividly,  so  directly, 
so  unceremoniously,  that  their  sensibilities  are  startled,  and 
would  fain  shrink  back  within  the  shell  of  custom  ;  so  different 
is  it  from  the  pulpy,  pointless,  euphemistic  roundaboutness 
and  volubility  which  they  have  been  used  to  hearing  from  20 
the  pulpit,  the  press,  the  vulgar  oratory,  and  the  popular 
authorship  of  the  day.  Therewithal,  the  Poet  often  springs 
upon  them  such  abrupt  and  searching  revelations  of  their 
inner  selves,  so  stings  them  with  his  truth,  so  wounds  them 
with  his  healing,  and  causes  such  an  undreamed-of  birth  of  25 
thoughts  and  feelings  within  them,  that  they  stare  about 
them  with  a  certain  dread  and  shudder,  and  "  tremble  like 
a  guilty  thing  surprised,"  as  in  the  presence  of  a  magician 
that  has  stolen  their  inmost  secrets  from  them,  and  is  show- 
ing them  up  to  the  world."1"  3° 

But  this  is  not  all.    Besides  the  unfamiliarity  of  Shake- 
speare's matter,  so  many  and  so  great  lingual  changes  have 


92  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

taken  place  since  his  time,  and,  still  more,  his  manner  both 
of  thought  and  expression  is  so  intensely  idiomatic, his  diction 
so  suggestive  and  overcharged  with  meaning,  his  imagery  so 
strong  and  bold,  his  sense  so  subtle  and  delicate,  his  mod- 

5  ulation  so  various  and  of  such  solid  and  piercing  sweetness, 
that  common  readers  naturally  have  no  little  difficulty  in 
coming  to  an  easy  and  familiar  converse  with  him.  On  some 
of  these  points,  an  editor  can  give  little  or  no  positive  help  : 
he  can  at  the  best  but  remove  or  lessen  hindrances,  and  per- 

10  haps  throw  in  now  and  then  a  kindling  word  or  breath.  But, 
on  others  of  them,  it  lies  within  an  editor's  province  to  ren- 
der all  the  positive  aid  that  common  readers  need  for  mak- 
ing them  intelligently  and  even  delightedly  at  home  with 
the  Poet. 

15  Of  course  this  is  to  be  mostly  done  by  furnishing  such  and 
so  much  of  comment  and  citation  as  may  be  required  for 
setting  the  Poet's  meaning  out  clear  and  free,  and  by  trans- 
lating strange  or  unfamiliar  words,  phrases,  and  modes  of 
speech  into  the  plain,  current  language  of  the  day.    And 

20  here  it  is  of  the  first  importance  that  an  editor  have  the  mind, 
or  the  art,  not  only  to  see  things  plainly,  but  to  say  a  plain 
thing  in  a  plain  way ;  or,  in  the  happy  phrase  of  old  Roger 
Ascham,  to  "  think  as  wise  men  do,  and  speak  as  common 
people  do."+  And  the  secret  of  right  editing  is,  to  help  aver- 

25  age  readers  over  the  author's  difficulties  with  as  little  sense 
as  possible  of  being  helped  ;  to  lead  them  up  his  heights  and 
through  his  depths  with  as  little  sense  as  possible  of  being  led. 
To  do  this,  the  editor  must  have  such  a  kind  and  measure  of 
learning  in  the  field  of  his  labor  as  can  come  only  by  many 

3°  years  of  careful  study  and  thought;  and  he  must  keep  the 
details  and  processes  of  his  learning  out  of  sight,  putting  forth 
only  the  last  and  highest  results,  the  blossom  and  fragrance, 


THE   HARVARD  SHAKESPEARE  93 

of  his  learnedness :  and  the  editor  who  does  not  know  too 
much  in  his  subject  to  be  showing  his  knowledge  is  green 
and  crude,  and  so  far  unfitted  for  his  task.  Generally  speak- 
ing, it  is  doubtless  better  to  withhold  a  needed  explanation 
than  to  offer  a  needless  one ;  because  the  latter  looks  as  if  5 
the  editor  were  intent  on  thrusting  himself  between  the 
author  and  the  reader. 

Probably  we  all  understand  that  the  best  style  in  writing 
is  where  average  minds,  on  reading  it,  are  prompted  to  say, 
"  Why,  almost  anybody  could  have  done  that  "  ;  and  a  style  10 
that  is  continually  making  such  readers  sensible  of  their 
ignorance,  or  of  their  inferiority  to  the  writer,  is  not  good. 
For  the  proper  light  of  a  truly  luminous  speaker  is  one  that 
strikes  up  a  kindred  light  in  the  hearer ;  so  that  the  light 
seems  to  come,  and  indeed  really  does  come,  from  the  15 
hearer's  own  mind.  It  is  much  the  same  in  editing  a  stand- 
ard author  for  common  use.  And  for  an  editor  to  be  all 
the  while,  or  often,  putting  average  readers  in  mind  how 
ignorant  and  inferior  they  are,  is  not  the  best  way,  nor  the 
right  way,  to  help  them.  20 

But  what  seems  specially  needful  to  be  kept  in  mind  is, 
that  when  common  people  read  Shakespeare,  it  is  not  to 
learn  etymology,  or  grammar,  or  philology,  or  lingual  antiqui- 
ties, or  criticism,  or  the  technicalties  of  scholarism,  but  to 
learn  Shakespeare  himself;  to  understand  the  things  he  puts  25 
before  them,  to  take  in  his  thought,  to  taste  his  wisdom,  to 
feel  his  beauty,  to  be  kindled  by  his  fire,  to  be  refreshed  with 
his  humor,  to  glow  with  his  rapture,  and  to  be  stolen  from 
themselves  and  transported  into  his  moral  and  intellectual 
whereabout ;  in  a  word,  to  live,  breathe,  think,  and  feel  with  30 
him.  I  am  so  simple  and  old-fashioned  as  to  hold  that,  in 
so  reading  the  Poet,  they  are  putting  him  to  the  very  best 


94  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

and  highest  use  of  which  he  is  capable.  Even  their  intellects, 
I  think,  will  thrive  far  better  so,  than  by  straining  themselves 
to  a  course  of  mere  intellectualism.  All  which  means,  to  be 
sure,  that  far  more  real  good  will  come,  even  to  the  mind, 
5  by  foolishly  enjoying  Shakespeare  than  by  learnedly  parsing 
him.  So  that  here  I  am  minded  to  apply  the  saying  of 
Wordsworth,  that  "  he  is  oft  the  wisest  man  who  is  not  wise 
at  all." 

Now  I  cannot  choose  but  think  that,  if  this  were  always 

io  duly  borne  in  mind,  we  should  see  much  more  economy  of 
erudition  than  we  do.  It  is  the  instinct  of  a  crude  or  con- 
ceited learning  to  be  ever  emphasizing  itself,  and  poking  its 
fingers  into  the  readers'  eyes  :  but  a  ripe  and  well-assimilated 
learning  does  not  act  thus  :   it  is  a  fine  spirit  working  in  the 

15  mind's  blood,  and  not  a  sort  of  foam  or  scum  mantling  its 
surface,  or  an  outgrowth  bristling  into  notice."1"  So  that  here, 
as  in  all  true  strength,  modesty  rules  the  transpiration. 
Accordingly  an  editor's  proper  art  is  to  proceed,  not  by  a 
formal  and  conscious  use  of  learning,  but  by  the  silent  effi- 

20  cacy  thereof  transfusing  itself  insensibly  into  and  through 
his  work,  so  as  to  accomplish  its  purpose  without  being 
directly  seen. 

Nor  is  Shakespeare's  language  so  antiquated,  or  his  idiom 
of  thought  so  remote  from  ordinary  apprehension,  as  to 

25  require  a  minute,  or  cumbrous,  or  oppressive  erudition  for 
making  his  thoughts  intelligible  to  average  minds.  His 
diction,  after  all,  is  much  nearer  the  common  vernacular  of 
the  day  than  that  of  his  editors :  for  where  would  these  be 
if  they  did  not  write  in  a  learned  style?    To  be  sure,  here, 

30  as  elsewhere,  an  editor's  art,  or  want  of  art,  can  easily  find 
or  make  ever  so  many  difficulties,  in  order  to  magnify  itself 
and  its  office  by  meeting  them,  or  by  seeming  to  meet  them. 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  95 

And  in  fact  it  has  now  become,  or  is  fast  becoming,  very 
much  the  fashion  to  treat  Shakespeare  in  this  way;  an  elab- 
orate and  self-conscious  erudition  using  him  as  a  sort  of 
perch  to  flap  its  wings  and  crow  from.  So  we  have  had  and 
are  having  editions  of  his  plays  designed  for  common  use,  5 
wherein  the  sunlight  of  his  poetry  is  so  muffled  and  stran- 
gled by  a  thick  haze  of  minute,  technical,  and  dictionary 
learning,  that  common  eyes  can  hardly  catch  any  fresh  and 
clear  beams  of  it.  Small  points  and  issues  almost  number- 
less, and  many  of  them  running  clean  off  into  distant  tenth-  10 
cousin  matters,  are  raised,  as  if  poetry  so  vital  and  organic 
as  his,  and  with  its  mouth  so  full  of  soul  music,  were  but  a 
subject  for  lingual  and  grammatical  dissection  ;  or  a  thing 
to  be  studied  through  a  microscope,  and  so  to  be  "  exam- 
ined, ponder'd,  search'd,  probed,  vex'd,  and  criticised. "+  Is  15 
not  all  this  very  much  as  if  the  main  business  of  readers, 
with  Shakespeare's  page  before  them,  were  to  "  pore,  and 
dwindle  as  they  pore  "? 

Here  the  ruling  thought  seems  to  be,  that  the  chief  profit 
of  studying  Shakespeare  is  to  come  by  analyzing  and  parsing  20 
his  sentences,  not  by  understanding  and  enjoying  his  poetry. 
But,  assuredly,  this  is  not  the  way  to  aid  and  encourage 
people  in  the  study  of  Shakespeare.    They  are  not  to  be 
inspired  with  a  right  love  or  taste  for  him  by  having  his 
lines  encumbered  with  such  commentatorial  redundances  25 
and  irrelevancies.    Rather  say,  such  a  course  naturally  ren- 
ders the  Poet  an  unmitigable  bore  to  them,  and  can  hardly 
fail  to  disgust  and  repel  them  ;  unless,  perchance,  it  may 
superinduce   upon   them  a  certain  dry  rot  of  formalistic 
learning.    For,  in  a  vast  many  cases,  the  explanations  are  30 
far  more  obscure  to  the  average  reader  than  the  things 
explained ;  and  he  may  well  despair  of  understanding  the 


96  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

Poet,  when  he  so  often  finds  it  impossible  to  understand 
his  explainers.  Or  the  effect  of  such  a  course,  if  it  have 
any  but  a  negative  effect,  can  hardly  be  other  than  to  tease 
and  card  the  common  sense  out  of  people,  and  train  them 

5  into  learned  and  prating  dunces,  instead  of  making  them 
intelligent,  thoughtful,  happy  men  and  women  in  the  ordi- 
nary tasks,  duties,  and  concerns  of  life. 

Thus  Shakespeare  is  now  in  a  fair  way  to  undergo  the 
same  fate  which  a  much  greater  and  better  book  has  already 

10  undergone. +  For  even  so  a  great  many  learned  minds, 
instead  of  duly  marking  how  little  need  be  said,  and  how 
simply  that  little  should  be  said,  have  tried,  apparently,  how 
much  and  how  learnedly  they  could  write  upon  the  Bible ; 
how  many  nice  questions  they  could  raise,  and  what  elabo- 

15  rate  comments  they  could  weave  about  its  contents.  Take, 
for  example,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount :  left  to  its  natural 
and  proper  working,  that  brief  piece  of  writing  has  in  it  more 
of  true  culture-force  or  culture-inspiration  than  all  the  mere 
scientific  books  in  the  world  put  together  :  and  learned  com- 

20  mentaries  stand,  or  claim  to  stand,  in  the  rank  of  scientific 
works.  Yet  even  here,  as  experience  has  amply  proved,  a 
sort  of  learned  incontinence  can  easily  so  intricate  and  per- 
plex the  matter,  and  spin  the  sense  out  into  such  a  curious 
and  voluminous  interpretation,    as  fairly  to   swamp    plain 

25  minds,  and  put  them  quite  at  a  loss  as  to  what  the  Divine 
utterances  mean.  The  thing  is  clear  enough,  until  a  garru- 
lous and  obtrusive  learning  takes  it  in  hand ;  and  then  dark- 
ness begins  to  gather  round  it. 

And  so  the  Bible  generally,  as  we  all  know,  has  been  so 

30  worried  and  belabored  with  erudite,  or  ignorant,  but  at  all 
events  diffusive,  long-winded,  and  obstructive  commentary; 
its  teachings  and  efficacies  have  got  so  strangled  by  the 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  97 

interminable  yarns  of  interpretation  spun  about  them  ;  that 
now  at  length  common  people  have  pretty  much  lost  both 
their  faith  in  it  and  their  taste  for  it :  reverence  for  it  has 
come  to  be  regarded  as  little  better  than  an  exploded  super- 
stition :  and  indeed  its  light  can  hardly  struggle  or  nitrate  5 
through  the  dense  vapors  of  learned  and  elaborate  verbosity 
exhaled  from  subjacent  regions.  The  tendency  now  is  to 
replace  the  Bible  with  Shakespeare  as  our  master  code  of 
practical  wisdom  and  guidance.  I  am  far,  very  far  indeed, 
from  regarding  this  as  a  sign  of  progress,  either  moral  or  10 
intellectual :  viewed  merely  in  reference  to  literary  taste,  the 
Bible  is  incomparably  beyond  any  other  book  in  the  world  : 
but,  if  such  a  substitution  must  be  made,  Shakespeare  is 
probably  the  best.  The  Poet  himself  tells  us,  "  they  that 
dally  nicely  with  words  may  quickly  make  them  wanton."  15 
And  so,  to  be  sure,  the  process  has  set  in,  and  is  already 
well  advanced,  of  smothering  his  proper  light  beneath  com- 
mentatorial  surplusage  and  rubbish. 

So  strong  is  the  conceit  of  studying  all  things  scientific- 
ally, that  we  must,  forsooth,  have  Shakespeare  used  as  the  20 
raw  material  of  scientific  manufacture.  It  seems  to  be  pre- 
sumed that  people  cannot  rightly  feed  upon  his  poetry, 
unless  it  be  first  digested  for  them  into  systematic  shape 
by  passing  through  some  gerund-grinding  laboratory.+  But 
the  plain  truth  is,  that  works  of  imagination  cannot  be  25 
mechanized  and  done  over  into  the  forms  of  science,  with- 
out a  total  dissipation  of  their  life  and  spirit,  of  all  indeed 
that  is  properly  constitutive  in  them.  It  is  simply  like  dis- 
secting a  bird  in  order  to  find  out  where  the  music  comes 
from  and  how  it  is  made.  3° 

I  have,  perhaps,  dwelt  upon  this  topic  too  long,  and  may 
fitly  close  it  with  a  few  pertinent  words  from  Bacon,  which 


98  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

always  come  into  my  remembrance  when  thinking  on  the 
subject.  "  The  first  distemper  of  learning,"  says  he,  "  is 
when  men  study  words  and  not  matter.  And  how  is  it  pos- 
sible but  this  should  have  an  operation  to  discredit  learn- 
5  ing,  even  with  vulgar  capacities,  when  they  see  learned 
men's  works  like  the  first  letter  of  a  patent,  or  a  limned 
book ;  which,  though  it  hath  large  flourishes,  yet  is  but  a 
letter?  It  seems  to  me  that  Pygmalion's  frenzy  is  a  good 
emblem  or  portraiture  of  this  vanity  :  for  words  are  but  the 

io  images  of  matter ;  and,  except  they  have  the  life  of  reason 
and  invention,  to  fall  in  love  with  them  is  all  one  as  to  fall 
in  love  with  a  picture."  In  another  passage,  he  puts  the 
matter  as  follows  :  "  Surely,  like  as  many  substances  in 
Nature  which  are  solid  do  putrefy  and  corrupt  into  worms ; 

15  so  it  is  the  property  of  good  and  sound  knowledge  to 
putrefy  and  dissolve  into  a  number  of  subtile,  idle,  unwhole- 
some, and  (as  I  may  term  them)  vermiculate  questions, 
which  have  indeed  a  kind  of  quickness  and  life  of  spirit, 
but  no  soundness  of  matter  or  goodness  of  quality." 

20  To  preclude  misapprehension,  as  far  as  may  be,  I  must 
add  that  the  foregoing  remarks  have  an  eye  only  to  editions 
of  the  Poet  designed  for  common  use  ;  and  so  cannot  be 
justly  construed  as  reflecting  on  such  as  look  mainly  to  the 
special  use  of  students  and  scholars.    Doubtless  there  may 

25  be,  nay,  there  must  be,  from  time  to  time,  say  as  often  as 
once  in  forty  or  fifty  years,  highly  learned  editions  of  Shake- 
speare; such,  for  instance,  as  Mr.  Howard  Furness's  mag- 
nificent Variorum,  which,  so  far  as  it  has  come,  is  a  truly 
monumental  achievement  of  learning,  judgment,  good  sense, 

30  and  conscientious,  painstaking  industry. +  Of  course  such  a 
work  must  needs  enter  very  largely  into  the  details  and 
processes  of  the  subject,  pursuing  a  great  many  points  out 


THE  HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  99 

through  all  the  subtilties  and  intricacies  of  critical  inquiry. 
But,  for  the  generality  of  readers,  such  a  handling  of  the 
theme  is  obviously  quite  out  of  the  question  :  in  this  hard 
working-day  world,  they  have  too  much  else  in  hand  to  be 
tracing  out  and  sifting  the  nice  questions  which  it  is  the  5 
business  of  a  profound  and  varied  scholarship  to  investigate 
and  settle;  and  the  last  and  highest  results  of  such  scholar- 
ship is  all  that  they  can  possibly  have  time  or  taste  for.  If 
any  one  says  that  common  readers,  such  as  at  least  ninety- 
nine  persons  in  a  hundred  are  and  must  be,  should  have  the  10 
details  and  processes  of  the  work  put  before  them,  that  so 
they  may  be  enabled  to  form  independent  judgments  for 
themselves;  —  I  say,  whoever  talks  in  this  way  is  either 
under  a  delusion  himself,  or  else  means  to  delude  others. 
It  may  flatter  common  readers  to  be  told  that  they  are  just  15 
as  competent  to  judge  for  themselves  in  these  matters  as 
those  who  have  made  a  lifelong  study  of  them  :  but  the 
plain  truth  is,  that  such  readers  must  perforce  either  take  the 
results  of  deep  scholarship  on  trust,  or  else  not  have  them  at 
all ;  and  none  but  a  dupe  or  a  quack,  or  perhaps  a  com-  20 
pound  of  the  two,  would  ever  think  of  representing  the 
matter  otherwise. 

But  the  main  business  of  this  Preface  is  yet  to  come,  and 
what  remains  must  be  chiefly  occupied  with  certain  ques- 
tions touching  the  Poet's  text.  And  here  I  must  first  make  25 
a  brief  general  statement  of  the  condition  in  which  his 
text  has  come  down  to  us,  leaving  the  particular  details  in 
this  kind  to  be  noted  in  connection  with  the  several  plays 
themselves. 

Of  the  thirty-eight  plays  included  in  this  edition,  sixteen,  30 
or,  if  we  count  in  the  originals  of  the  Second  and  Third 


IOO  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

Parts  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  eighteen,  were  published, 
severally  and  successively,  in  what  are  known  as  the  quarto 
editions,  during  the  Poet's  life.  Some  of  them  were  printed 
in  that  form  several  times,  but  often  with  considerable 
5  variations  of  text.  One  more,  Othello,  was  issued  in  that 
form  in  1622,  six  years  after  the  Poet's  death.  Copies 
of  these  editions  are  still  extant,  though  in  some  cases 
exceedingly  rare.+  Most  of  these  issues  were  undoubtedly 
"stolen  and  surreptitious";    and  it  is  nowise  likely  that 

10  in  any  of  them  a  single  page  of  the  proofs  was  ever  cor- 
rected by  Shakespeare  himself.  In  the  popular  literature 
of  his  time,  proof  reading  generally  was  done,  if  done  at  all, 
with  such  a  degree  of  slovenliness  as  no  one  would  think 
of  tolerating  now.    And  that  proof  sheets  can   be  rightly 

15  and  properly  corrected  by  none  but  the  author  himself,  or 
by  one  very  closely  and  minutely  familiar  with  his  mind, 
his  mouth,  and  his  hand,  is  a  lesson  which  an  experience 
of  more  than  thirty  years  in  the  matter  has  taught  me  beyond 
all  peradventure.    And,  in  fact,   the   printing  in   most  of 

20  these  quarto  issues  is  so  shockingly  bad,  that  no  one  can 
gain  an  adequate  idea  of  how  bad  it  is,  except  by  minutely 
studying  the  text  as  there  given,  and  comparing  it  in  detail 
with  the  text  as  given  in  modern  editions. 

All  the  forecited  plays,  with  one  exception,  Pericles,  were 

25  set  forth  anew  in  the  celebrated  folio  of  1623,+  seven  years 
after  the  Poet's  death.  Most  of  them  are  indeed  printed 
much  better  there  than  in  the  earlier  issues,  though  some 
of  them  are  well  known  to  have  been  printed  from  quarto 
copies.    Therewithal  the  folio  set  forth,  for  the  first  time,  so 

30  far  as  is  known,  all  the  other  plays  included  in  this  edition, 
except  77*i?  Two  Noble  Kinsmen.  The  volume  was  pub- 
lished, professedly  at  least,  under  the  editorial  care  of  the 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  lOI 

Poet's  friends  and  fellow-actors,  John  Heminge  and  Henry 
Condell. 

The  printing  of  the   folio  is   exceedingly    unequal :    in 
some  of  the  plays,  as,  for  instance,  Julius  Ctzsar,  Twelfth 
Night,  and  As  You  Like  It,  it  is  remarkably  good  for  the    5 
time,   insomuch   that   the  text,   generally,   is   got   into  an 
orderly  and  intelligible  state  without  much  trouble  ;  while 
others,  as  All's  Well,    Coriolanus,  and  Timon  of  Athens, 
abound  in  the  grossest  textual  corruptions,  so  that  the  labor 
of  rectification  seems  to  be  literally  endless.     Even  where  10 
the  printing  is  best,  there  are  still  so  many  palpable,  and 
also  so  many  more  or  less  probable,  misprints,  that  the  text, 
do  the  best  we  can  with  it,  must  often  stand  under  con- 
siderable uncertainty.    It  is  not  unlikely  that  in  some  parts 
of  the  volume  the  editors  themselves  may  have  attended  15 
somewhat  to  the  correcting  of  the  proofs,  while  in  others 
they  left  it  entirely  to  the  printers.    Of  course  all  the  plays 
then  first  published  must  have  been  printed  either  from  the 
author's  own  manuscripts,  or  else  from  playhouse  transcripts 
of  them.    Doubtless  these  were  made  by  different  hands,  20 
sometimes  with  reasonable  care,  sometimes  otherwise,  and 
so  with  widely  varying  degrees  of  accuracy  and  legibility. 

In  their  "  Address  to  the  Readers,"  the  editors,  after 
referring  to  the  earlier  quarto  issues,  go  on  as  follows  :  + 
"  Even  those  are  now  offered  to  your  view  cured  and  per-  25 
feet  of  their  limbs,  and  all  the  rest  absolute  in  their  numbers 
as  he  [the  author]  conceived  them  ;  who,  as  he  was  a  happy 
imitator  of  Nature,  was  a  most  gentle  expresser  of  it :  and 
what  he  thought,  he  uttered  with  that  easiness,  that  we  have 
scarce  received  from  him  a  blot  in  his  papers."  Heminge  30 
and  Condell  appear  to  have  been  honest  and  amiable  men  ; 
but  they  naturally  felt  a  strong  interest  in  having  the  volume 


102  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

sell  well,  and  so  were  moved  to  recommend  it  as  highly  as 
they  could  to  purchasers.  Probably  there  was  something  of 
truth  in  what  they  said,  perhaps  enough  to  excuse,  if  not  to 
justify  them  in  saying  it :  nevertheless  it  is  perfectly  certain 
5  that  their  words  were  not  true  to  the  full  extent;  and  most 
likely  what  was  true  only  of  a  portion  of  the  volume  they 
deemed  it  right  to  put  forth  in  a  general  way  as  if  appli- 
cable to  the  whole,  without  staying  to  express  any  limita- 
tions or  exceptions.    The  folio  was  reprinted  in  1632,  again 

10  in  1664,  and  yet  again  in  i685.+  The  folio  of  1632  was 
set  forth  with  a  good  many  textual  changes,  made  by  an 
unknown  hand  ;  sometimes  corrections,  and  sometimes 
corruptions,  but  none  of  them  carrying  any  authority. 
Changes  of  text,  though  less  both  in  number  and  impor- 

15  tance,  were  also  made  in  the  third  and  fourth  folios. 

Before  passing  on  from  this  topic,  I  must  add  that,  after 
1623,  single  plays  continued  to  be  reprinted,  from  time  to 
time,  in  quarto  form.  But  as  these  are  seldom  of  any  use 
towards  ascertaining  or  helping  the  text,  it  seems  not  worth 

20  the  while  to  specify  them  in  detail.  Probably  the  most  val- 
uable of  them  is  that  of  Othello,  issued  in  1630.  Others 
of  them  are  occasionally  referred  to  in  the  Critical  Notes. 

As  I  have  frequent  occasion  to  cite  a  famous  volume 
which  I  designate  as  "  Collier's  second  folio,"  +  it  appears 

25  needful  to  give  some  account  thereof  in  this  place.  —  In 
1849,  Mr.  J.  P.  Collier,  a  very  learned  and  eminent  Shake- 
spearean, lighted  upon  and  purchased  a  copy  of  the  second 
folio  containing  a  very  large  number  of  verbal,  literal,  and 
punctuative  alterations  in  manuscript ;  all  of  course  intended 

30  as  corrections  of  the  text.  At  what  time  or  times,  and  by 
what  hand  or  hands,  these  changes  were  made,  has  not  been 
settled,  nor  is  likely  to  be.    For  some  time  there  was  a  good 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  103 

deal  of  pretty  warm  controversy  about  them.  All,  I  believe, 
are  now  pretty  much  agreed,  and  certainly  such  is  my  own 
judgment,  that  none  of  them  have  any  claim  to  be  regarded 
as  authentic  :  most  of  them  are  corruptions  decidedly  ;  but 
a  considerable  number  may  be  justly  spoken  of  as  correc-  5 
tions  ;  and  some  of  them  are  exceedingly  happy  and  valu- 
able. To  be  sure,  of  those  that  may  be  called  apt  and  good, 
the  larger  portion  had  been  anticipated  by  modern  editors, 
and  so  had  passed  into  the  current  text.  Still  there  are 
enough  of  original  or  unanticipated  corrections  to  render  the  10 
volume  an  important  contribution  towards  textual  rectifica- 
tion. Nevertheless  they  all  stand  on  the  common  footing  of 
conjectural  emendation,  and  so  carry  no  authority  in  their 
hand  but  that  of  inherent  fitness  and  propriety. 

Herewith  I  must  also  mention  another  copy  of  the  same  15 
folio,  which  is  sometimes  referred  to  in  my  Critical  Notes. 
This  was  owned  by  the  late  Mr.  S.  W.  Singer,  also  one  of 
the  most  learned  and  eminent  Shakespeareans  of  his  time. 
All  that  need  be  said  of  it  here  may  as  well  be  given  in 
Singer's  own  words  :  "  In  June,  1852, 1  purchased  from  Mr.  20 
Willis,  the  bookseller,  a  copy  of  the  second  folio  edition  of 
Shakespeare,  in  its  original  binding,  which,  like  that  of  Mr. 
Collier,  contains  very  numerous  manuscript  corrections  by 
several  hands  :  the  typographical  errors,  with  which  that 
edition  abounds,  are  sedulously  corrected,  and  the  writers  25 
have  also  tried  their  hands  at  conjectural  emendation  exten- 
sively. Many  of  these  emendations  correspond  to  those  in 
Mr.  Collier's  volume,  but  chiefly  in  those  cases  where  the 
error  in  the  old  copy  was  pretty  evident ;  but  the  readings 
often  vary,  and  sometimes  for  the  better."  3° 

Thus  much  may  suffice  for  indicating  generally  the  con- 
dition in  which  Shakespeare's  plays  have  come  down  to  us. 


104  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

Of  course  the  early  quartos  and  the  first  folio  are,  in  the 
proper  sense,  our  only  authorities  for  the  Poet's  text.  But 
his  text  has  not  been,  and  most  assuredly  never  will  be 
allowed  to  remain  in  the  condition  there  given.    The  labors 

5  and  the  judgment  of  learned,  sagacious,  painstaking,  diligent 
workmen  in  the  field  have  had,  ought  to  have,  must  have,  a 
good  deal  of  weight  in  deciding  how  the  matter  should  go.+ 
And  now  the  question  confronts  us  whether,  after  all,  there 
is  any  likelihood  of  Shakespeare's  text  being  ever  got  into  a 

io  satisfactory  state.  Perhaps,  nay,  I  may  as  well  say  probably, 
not.  Probably  the  best  to  be  looked  for  here  is  a  greater 
or  less  degree  of  approximation  to  such  a  state.  At  all 
events,  if  it  come  at  all,  it  is  to  come  as  the  slow  cumula- 
tive result  of  a  great  many  minds  working  jointly,  or  sever- 

15  ally,  and  successively,  and  each  contributing  its  measure, 
be  it  more,  be  it  less,  towards  the  common  cause.  A  mite 
done  here,  and  a  mite  done  there,  will  at  length,  when  time 
shall  cast  up  the  sum,  accomplish  we  know  not  what. 

The   Bible  apart,  Shakespeare's  dramas  are,  by  general 

20  consent,  the  greatest  classic  and  literary  treasure  of  the 
world.  His  text,  with  all  the  admitted  imperfections  on  its 
head,  is  nevertheless  a  venerable  and  sacred  thing,  and 
must  nowise  be  touched  but  under  a  strong  restraining 
sense  of  pious  awe.+    Woe  to  the  man  that  exercises  his 

25  critical  surgery  here  without  a  profound  reverence  for  the 
subject !  All  glib  ingenuity,  all  shifty  cleverness,  should  be 
sternly  warned  off  from  meddling  with  the  matter.  Nothing 
is  easier  than  making  or  proposing  ingenious  and  plausible 
corrections.    But  changes  merely  ingenious  are  altogether 

30  worse  than  none  ;  and  whoever  goes  about  the  work  with 
his  mind  at  all  in  trim  for  it  will  much  rather  have  any  cor- 
rections he  may  make  or  propose  flatly  condemned  as  bad, 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  105 

than  have  that  sweetish  epithet  politely  smiled,  or  sneered, 
upon  them.  On  the  other  hand,  to  make  corrections  that  are 
really  judicious,  corrections  that  have  due  respect  to  all  sides 
of  the  case,  and  fit  all  round,  and  that  keep  strictly  within 
the  limits  of  such  freedom  as  must  be  permitted  in  the  pre-  5 
senting  of  so  great  a  classic  so  deeply  hurt  with  textual  cor- 
ruptions ;  —  this  is,  indeed,  just  the  nicest  and  most  delicate 
art  in  the  whole  work  of  modern  editorship.  And  as  a  due 
application  of  this  art  requires  a  most  circumspective  and 
discriminating  judgment,  together  with  a  lifelong  acquaint-  10 
ance  with  the  Poet's  mental  and  rhythmic  and  lingual  idiom  ; 
so,  again,  there  needs  no  small  measure  of  the  same  prep- 
aration, in  order  to  a  judicious  estimate  of  any  ripely 
considered  textual  change. 

The  work  of  ascertaining  and  amending  Shakespeare's  15 
text  systematically  began  with  Rowe  in  i709,+  his  first  edi- 
tion having  come  out  that  year,  his  second  in  17 14.  The 
work  was  continued  by  Pope,  who  also  put  forth  two  edi- 
tions, in  1725  and  i728.+  Pope  was  followed  by  Theobald,4- 
whose  two  editions  appeared  in  1733  and  1740.  Then  came  20 
Hanmer's  edition  in  1744, +  and  Warburton's  in  1747. +  All 
through  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  process 
was  sedulously  continued  by  Johnson,4"  Capell,4"  Steevens,4" 
Malone,4"  and  sundry  others.  Heath,  though  not  an  editor, 
was  hardly  inferior  to  any  of  them  in  understanding  and  25 
judgment ;  and  his  comments  remain  to  this  day  among  the 
best  we  have.  Most  of  these  men  were  very  strong  and 
broad  in  learning  and  sagacity,  and  in  the  other  furnishings 
needful  for  their  task ;  none  of  them  were  wanting  in 
respect  for  the  Poet ;  and  all  of  them  did  good  service.  30 

It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  many,  if  not  most,  of 
these  workmen  handled  the  text  with  excessive  freedom ; 


106  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

and  perhaps  it  may  be  justly  said  that,  taken  all  together, 
they  corrupted  quite  as  much  as  they  corrected  it.  They 
seem  to  have  gone  somewhat  upon  the  principle  of  giving 
what,  in  their  judgment,  the  Poet  ought  to  have  written ; 
5  whereas  the  thing  we  want  is  not  what  anybody  may  think 
he  ought  to  have  written,  but  what,  as  nearly  as  can  be 
judged,  he  actually  did  write.  Accordingly  much  labor  has 
since  had  to  be  spent  in  undoing  what  was  thus  overdone. 
During  the  present  century  the  process  of  correction  has 

io  been  kept  up,  but  much  more  temperately,  and  by  minds 
well  fitted  and  furnished  for  the  task,  though  probably,  as  a 
whole,  not  equal  to  the  earlier  series  of  workmen.  Among 
these  are  Singer,  Collier,  Dyce,  Staunton,  Halliwell,  and 
White,  faithful  and  highly  competent  laborers,  whose  names 

15  will  doubtless  hold  prominent  and  permanent  places  in 
Shakespearean  lore. 

The  excessive  freedom  in  textual  change  used  by  the  ear- 
lier series  of  editors  has  naturally  had  the  effect  of  provoking 
a  reaction.     For  the   last   forty  years  or  thereabouts,  this 

20  reaction  has  been  in  progress,  and  is  now,  I  think,  at  its 
height,  having  reached  an  extreme  fully  as  great,  and  not 
a  whit  more  commendable  than  the  former  extreme.  Of 
course  this  can  hardly  fail  in  due  time  to  draw  on  another 
reaction  ;  and  already  signs  are  not  wanting  that  such  a 

25  result  is  surely  forthcoming.  To  the  former  license  of  cor- 
rection there  has  succeeded  a  license,  not  less  vicious,  of 
interpretation.  Explanations  the  most  strained,  far-fetched, 
and  oversubtile  are  now  very  much  the  order  of  the  day,  — 
things  sure  to  disgust  the  common  sense  of  sober,  candid, 

30  circumspective,  cool-judging  minds.  It  is  said  that  the  old 
text  must  not  be  changed  save  in  cases  of  "  absolute  neces- 
sity "  ;  and  this  dictum  is  so  construed,  in  theory  at  least, 


THE   HARVARD  SHAKESPEARE  \oy 

as  to  prompt  and  cover  all  the  excesses  of  the  most  fanciful, 
fine-drawn,  and  futile  ingenuity.  The  thing  has  grown  to 
the  ridiculous  upshot  of  glozing  and  belauding  printers' 
errors  into  poetic  beauties,  and  the  awkwardest  hitchings 
and  haltings  of  meter  into  "  elegant  retardations."  To  5 
minds  so  captivated  with  their  own  ingenuity,  an  item  of  the 
old  text  that  is  utter  nonsense  is  specially  attractive  ;  because, 
to  be  sure,  they  can  the  more  easily  spell  their  own  sense, 
or  want  of  sense,  into  it.  And  so  we  see  them  doggedly  tena- 
cious of  such  readings  as  none  but  themselves  can  explain,  10 
and  fondly  concocting  such  explanations  thereof  as  none 
but  themselves  can  understand  ;  tormenting  the  meaning 
they  want  out  of  words  that  are  no  more  akin  to  it  than  the 
multiplication  table  is  to  a  trilobite.  Surely,  then,  the  thing 
now  most  in  order  is  a  course  of  temperance  and  modera-  15 
tion,  a  calmness  and  equipoise  of  judgment,  steering  clear 
of  both  extremes,  and  sounding  in  harmony  with  plain  old 
common  sense,  one  ounce  of  which  is  worth  more  than  a  ton 
of  exegetical  ingenuity.  For  Shakespeare,  be  it  observed, 
is  just  our  great  imperial  sovereign  of  common  sense ;  and  20 
sooner  or  later  the  study  of  him  will  needs  kill  off  all  the 
editors  that  run  in  discord  with  this  supreme  quality  of  his 
workmanship. 

The  present  generation  of  Shakespeareans  are  rather  con- 
spicuously, not  to  say  ostentatiously,  innocent  of  respect  25 
for  their  predecessors.  They  even  seem  to  measure  the 
worth  of  their  own  doings  by  their  self-complacent  ignoring 
or  upbraiding  of  what  has  been  done  before.  Might  it 
not  be  well  for  them  to  bethink  themselves  now  and  then 
what  sort  of  a  lesson  their  contempt  of  the  past  is  likely  to  30 
teach  the  future  ?  Possibly  plain  sensible  people,  who  prefer 
small  perspicuities  to  big  obscurities,  soft-voiced  solidities  to 


108  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

high-sounding  nihilities,  may  take  it  into  their  heads  that 
wisdom  was  not  born  with  the  present  generation,  and  will 
not  die  with  it.  After  all,  Rowe,  Pope,  Theobald,  Hanmer, 
Warburton,  Johnson,  Capell,  and  others,  though  by  no  means 
5  infallible,  yet  were  not  fools  :  they  knew  several  things ; 
and  their  minds  were  at  least  tolerably  clear  of  conceit  and 
cant  :  I  suspect  they  understood  their  business  quite  as 
well,  and  labored  in  it  quite  as  uprightly  and  fruitfully,  as 
those  who  now  insist  on  proceeding  as  if  nothing  had  ever 

io  been  done  ;  as  if  it  had  been  reserved  exclusively  for  them 
to  understand  and  appreciate  the  Poet.  In  this,  as  in  some 
other  matters,  to  "  stand  as  if  a  man  were  author  of  him- 
self, and  knew  no  other  kin,"  is  not  exactly  the  thing.  The 
best  that  any  of  us  can  do  is  to  add  somewhat,  perhaps  a 

15  very,  very  little,  to  the  building  that  others  have  worked 
upon  and  helped  to  rear ;  and,  if  we  are  to  begin  by  a  clean 
sweeping  away  of  what  others  have  done,  that  so  our  puny 
architecture  may  have  a  better  chance  of  being  seen,  is  it 
not  possible  that  the  sum  of  our  own  doings,  as  time  shall 

20  foot  it  up,  will  prove  a  minus  quantity? 

Certainly  changes  in  the  old  text  of  Shakespeare  ought 
not  to  be  made  without  strong  and  clear  reasons  :  and, 
after  they  have  been  so  made,  stronger  and  clearer  reasons 
may  arise,  or  may  be  shown,  for  unmaking  them.+    Very 

25  well ;  be  it  so.  But  such  reasons  are  not  to  be  nonsuited 
by  unreasonable  explanations,  by  superfine  glozings,  and 
rhetorical  smokings.  The  cacoethes  e7nenda7idi  and  the 
cacocthes  explanandi  are  alike  out  of  place,  and  to  be 
avoided.    I  have  already  quoted  the  phrase  "  absolute  neces- 

30  sity,"  now  so  often  used  by  the  ultraists  of  textual  conserva- 
tism. This  phrase  seems  to  bind  the  thing  up  very  tightly  : 
yet,  even  with  those  who  urge  it  most  strongly,  it  is  found 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  109 

to  have,  in  effect,  no  firm  practical  meaning ;  at  least  not 
a  whit  more  than  the  phrase  "strong  and  clear  reasons." 
To  illustrate  what  I  mean  : 

Mr.  Furness,  in  his  King  Lear,  III,  vi,  prints  "  This  rest 
might  yet  have  balm'd  thy  broken  sinews";  thus  rejecting    5 
Theobald's  reading,  "  broken  senses"  for  the  old  text :  and 
he  does  this  on  the  ground  that  "  the  change  is  not  abso- 
lutely necessary."   Yet,  in  II,  iv,  he  prints  "To  be  a  comrade 
of  the  wolf,  and  howl  necessity's  sharp  pinch  !  "  thus  substi- 
tuting howl,  from  Collier's  second  folio,  for  owl,  the  old  10 
reading.    And  I  think  he  shows  strong  and  clear  reasons  for 
the  change.    But,  strictly  speaking,  I  can  see  no  absolute 
necessity  for  it :  some  tolerable  sense  can  be  made,  has  been 
made,  out  of  the  old  text.    Nay,  more  ;  the  change,  in  this 
case,  as  it  seems  to  me,  does  not  come  so  near  being  abso-  15 
lutely  necessary  as  in  the  case  of  Theobald's  senses.    I  must 
needs  think  that  owl  yields,  of  the  two,  a  better  and  more 
fitting  sense  in  the  one  place  than  sinews  does  in  the  other. 
Nevertheless,  in  the  instance  of  howl,  Mr.  Furness  seems 
to  me  to  make  out  a  clear  case;  to  justify  the  change  tri-  20 
umphantly  ;  this  too  without  any  approach  to  overstrained 
refinement ;  insomuch  that  I  should  henceforth  never  think 
of  printing  the  passage  otherwise  than  as  he  prints  it.    So, 
be  it  that  absolute  necessity  is  the  true  rule,  have  we  not 
here  a  pretty  good  instance  of  that  rule  being  "  more  hon-  25 
or'd  in  the  breach  than  the  observance  "? 

And  I  think  the  same  argument  will  hold  even  more 
strongly  touching  another  reading  which  he  adopts  from  the 
same  source.  It  is  in  I,  i,  where  he  prints  "  It  is  no  vicious 
blot,  nor  other  foulness,"  instead  of  the  old  reading,  "no  30 
vicious  blot,  murther,  or  foulness."  Here  the  need  of  the 
change,  to  my  thinking,  is  not  so  exigent  nor  so  evident  as 


HO  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

in  either  of  the  former  cases,  especially  the  first :  a  good 
deal,  I  think,  can  here  be  said  in  defense  of  the  old  reading  : 
at  all  events,  I  can  nowise  understand  how  the  absolute 
necessity  that  rules  out  senses  can  consistently  rule  in  howl 
5  and  nor  other.  But  Mr.  Furness,  with  all  his  austere  and, 
as  I  must  think,  rather  overstrained  conservatism,  so  com- 
mands my  respect,  that  I  accept  his  judgment  in  both  the 
latter  cases,  though  dissenting  from  him  altogether  in  the  first; 
herein  following,  as  I  take  it,  the  absolute  necessity  which  he 

10  practices,  and  not  the  one  which  he  preaches.    And  indeed 

so  many  men  preach  better  than  they  practice,  that  it  is 

decidedly  refreshing  to  meet,  now  and  then,  with  one  who 

reverses  this  order,  and  makes  his  practice  come  out  ahead. 

Of  course  this  point  might  easily  be  illustrated  at  almost 

15  any  length.  For  the  old  text  has  hundreds  of  cases  substan- 
tially parallel  with  those  I  have  cited ;  cases  where,  in  my 
judgment,  there  are  strong  and  clear  reasons  for  textual 
changes  made  or  proposed  by  former  Shakespeareans,  but 
where  the  new  school,  with  their  canon  of  "  absolute  neces- 

20  sity,"  hold  on  to  stark  corruptions,  and  then  make  up  for 
their  textual  strictness  with  the  largest  exegetical  license. 
Yet  I  have  never  caught  any  of  these  bigots  (so  I  must  term 
them)  of  the  old  letter  finding  fault  when  we,  of  a  somewhat 
more  liberal  bent,  have  adopted  any  corrections  which  they 

25  have  themselves  proposed.  Here,  as,  to  be  sure,  is  very  nat- 
ural, their  "absolute  necessity"  smiles  itself  into  an  aspect 
practicable  enough. 

For,   in   truth,  several  of  them  seem  equally  intent  on 
finding  reasons  for  condemning  corrections  that  others  have 

30  made,  and  for  proposing  or  approving  new  corrections  ;  and 
their  wrong-headed,  perhaps  I  should  say  pig-headed,  inge- 
nuity in  both  parts  of  the  business  is  sometimes  ludicrous, 


THE   HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  in 

sometimes  otherwise.  So,  for  instance,  one  of  them  has 
lately  approved,  and  another  adopted,  a  new  reading  in  The 
Te/npcst,l,'\\:  "Urchins  s\\a\\  forth  tf/vast  of  night,  that  they 
may  work  all  exercise  on  thee  "  ;  where  both  the  old  and 
the  common  reading  is,  "  Urchins  shall,  for  that  wast  of  night  5 
that  they  may  work,  all  exercise  on  thee."  Here,  of  course, 
for  gives  the  sense  of  duration,  or  prolonged  action  ;  which 
is  just  what  the  occasion  requires.  For  it  is  well  known  that 
urchins  were  wont  to  go  forth,  and  work,  or  play,  during  the 
vast  of  night,  anyhow ;  this  was  their  special  right  or  privi-  10 
lege  ;  and  Prospero  means  that,  during  that  time,  he  will 
have  them  exercise  their  talents  on  Caliban.  In  my  poor 
opinion,  therefore,  both  the  approver  and  the  adopter  of  the 
forecited  change  have  thereby,  so  far  as  one  instance  can 
tell  against  them,  earned  an  exclusion,  or  a  dismissal,  from  15 
the  seat  of  judgment  in  questions  of  that  sort.  However, 
when  any  of  these  gentlemen  offer  us,  as  they  sometimes  do, 
corrections  that  can  show  strong  and  clear  reasons,  I,  for 
one,  shall  be  happy  to  prefer  their  practice  also  to  their 
preaching ;  and,  if  they  see  fit  to  frown  their  preaching  20 
upon  me,  I  have  but  to  laugh  back  their  own  practice  upon 
them  :   so,  if  they  can  stand  it,  I  can. 

But  there  is  one  thing  which  I  feel  bound  to  set  my  face 
against,  however  insignificant  that  setting  may  be.  It  is 
this.  Of  course  there  are  a  great  many  plain  cases  of  textual  25 
corruption,  where,  notwithstanding,  a  full  and  perfect  cer- 
tainty as  to  the  right  correction  is  not  to  be  attained.  These 
often  try  an  editor's  labor  and  judgment  and  patience  to 
the  uttermost.  But  it  is  an  editor's  business,  in  such  cases, 
to  sift  and  weigh  the  whole  matter  with  all  possible  care,  to  30 
make  up  his  mind,  and  do  the  best  he  can.  This  is  a  tedi- 
ous and  painful,  as  also,  in  most  cases,  a  thankless  process. 


112  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

So  a  custom  has  lately  been  started,  for  editors,  when  on 
this  score  any  "  doubts  or  scruples  tease  the  brains"  to 
shirk  the  whole  matter,  to  shift  off  the  burden  upon  others, 
and  to  dodge  all  responsibility  and  all  hazard  of  a  wrong 
5  decision,  by  sticking  an  obelus  in  to  note  the  corruption  ; 
thus  calling  the  reader's  attention  to  his  need  of  help,  and 
yet  leaving  him  utterly  unhelped.  This  is  indeed  "  most 
tolerable  and  not  to  be  endured."  It  is,  in  effect,  equiva- 
lent to  telling  us  that  they  know  more  than  all  the  pre- 

10  vious  editors,  yet  do  not  know  enough  for  the  cause  they 
have  undertaken,  and  so  have  no  way  but  to  adjourn 
the  court. 

There  is  one  other  topic  upon  which  I  must  say  a  few 
words.  —  It  is  somewhat  in  question  how  far  the  spelling 

15  and  the  verbal  forms  of  the  old  copies  ought  to  be  retained. 
Mr.  White,  following  the  folio,  prints  murther  for  murder, 
f adorn  for  fathom,  and  in  some  cases,  if  I  rightly  remember, 
moder  for  mother.  Now  there  seems  to  me  just  as  much 
reason  for  keeping  the  two  latter  archaisms  as  for  keeping 

20  the  first ;  that  is  to  say,  none  at  all.  Herein,  however, 
Mr.  White  is  at  least  consistent ;  which  is  more  than  can  be 
said  of  some  other  recent  editing;  though  I  admit  that  in 
this  instance  consistency  is  not  a  jewel.  And  Mr.  Furness, 
in  the  Preface  to  his  King  Lear,  announces  that  hereafter  he 

25  shall  adhere  to  the  old  form,  or  old  spelling,  of  then  for  than, 
as  also  of  the  antique  concessive  and  for  an.  In  an  edition 
like  his,  designed  chiefly  for  students  and  scholars,  there  may 
be  some  reason  for  this  which  does  not  hold  in  the  case  of 
editions  looking  to  general  use  ;  yet  even  that  appears  to 

30  me  somewhat  more  than  doubtful.  Mr.  Furness  urges  that 
Spenser  always  uses  then  for  than,  and  that  none  of  his 
modern  editors  think  of  substituting  the  latter.    But  Spenser 


THE  HARVARD  SHAKESPEARE      113 

manifestly  took  pains  to  give  his  language  a  special  air  or 
smack  of  antiquity,  and  so  made  it  more  archaic  than  the 
general  usage  of  his  time.  Moreover,  Spenser  is  now  very 
little  read,  if  at  all,  save  by  scholars  and  students  ;  and,  if  I 
were  to  edit  any  portion  of  him  for  common  use,  I  should  5 
make  no  scruple  of  printing  than,  except  in  cases  where  then 
might  need  be  kept  for  the  rhyme.  It  may  be  well  to  add, 
that  in  the  original  editions  of  Hooker's  great  work  than  is, 
I  think,  always  spelled  then  :  nevertheless  the  late  Mr.  Keble, 
in  his  edition,  uniformly  prints  than;  and  I  suspect  it  will  10 
be  a  good  while  before  we  shall  see  any  better  specimen  of 
editorial  workmanship  than  Keble's  Hooker. 

Again  :  All  students  of  Shakespeare  know  that  the  folio 
has  many   instances  of  God  buy  you,   the   old   colloquial 
abridgment  of  God  be  with  you,  which  has  been  still  further  15 
shortened  into  our  Good  bye.    Probably,  in  the  Poet's  time, 
the  phrase  was  sounded  Godbwy  you.    Here  I  see  no  other, 
or  no  better,  way  to  keep  both  sense  and  sound,  and  rhythm 
also,  than  by  printing  God V  wV  you;  and  so  in  this  edition 
I  always  print,  or  mean  to  print.    Would  Mr.  Furness,  in  20 
this  instance  also,  retain  the  old  form  or  spelling  buy  ?  The 
phrase,  I  believe,  does  not  occur  in  King  Lear,  so  that  he 
had  no  occasion  there  for  making  any  sign  of  his  thought  on 
the  subject.  The  phrase  occurs  repeatedly  in  Hamlet,  once  in 
II,  i,  and  again  in  II,  ii ;  and  there  he  prints  "  God  be  wi'  25 
you  "  and  "  God  be  wi'  ye  "  ;  but  on  some  points  his  views 
have  changed   since  his  superb  edition  of   that  play  was 
issued.    Whatever  his  purpose  may  be,  I  cannot  but  think 
there  is  quite  as  good  reason  for  adhering  strictly  to  the  old 
letter  in  this  instance  as  in  that  of  then  or  of  and.  And  the  30 
case  is  substantially  the  same  in  reference  to  a  great  many 
other  words  :  in  fact,  I  do  not  see  how  this  principle  of 


II4  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

retention  can  consistently  stop,  till  it  shall  have  restored 
the  old  spelling  altogether. 

My  own  practice  in  this  matter  is,  wherever  anything  either 
of  sense,  or  of  rhythm,  or  of  meter,  or  of  rhyme,  is  involved, 
5  to  retain  the  old  forms  or  old  spelling.    For  instance,  the 
folio  has  eyne  for  eyes,  and  rhyming  with  mine ;  also  denay 
for  denial,  and  rhyming  with  say :  it  also  has  throughly  for 
thoroughly,  and  thorough  for  through.    Of  course  I  should 
never  think,  probably  no  editor  would  think,  of  disturbing 
10  these  archaisms,  or  such  as  these.    Even  when,  as  is  often 
the  case,  there  is  no  reason  of  meter  or  of  rhyme  for  keep- 
ing them,  they  are  essential  items  in  the  Poet's  rhythm  ;  for 
good  prose  has  a  rhythm  of  its  own  as  well  as  verse.    Now, 
Shakespeare,  especially  in  his  verse,  was  evidently  very  par- 
15  ticular  and  exact  in  the  care  of  his  rhythm  and  meter,  and 
therefore  of  his  syllables.    The  folio  has  almost  numberless 
minute  proofs  and  indications  of  this  ;  and  here,  of  course, 
the  smaller  the  note,  the  more  significance  it  bears  as  regards 
the  Poet's  habit  and   purpose.    Perhaps  there  is  no  one 
20  point  wherein  this  is  oftener  shown  than  in  his  very  frequent 
elision  of  the  article  the,  so  as  to  make  it  coalesce  with  the 
preceding  word  into  one  syllable.    So,  especially  in  his  later 
plays,  there  is  almost  no  end  to  such  elisions  as  by  th\ 
do  th\  forth', from  th\  on  th\  to  tti ,  etc.;  and  the  folio  has 
25  many  instances  of  the  double  elision  wV  th'  for  with  the. 
Now,  I  hold,  and  have  long  held,  it  important  that,  as  far  as 
practicable,  these  little  things  be  carefully  preserved,  not 
only  because  they  are  essential  parts  of  the  Poet's  verbal 
modulation,  but  also  as  significant  notes  or  registers  of  his 
30  scrupulous  and  delicate  attention  to  this  element  of  his 
workmanship.    Yet  the  whole  thing  is  totally  ignored  in  all 
the  recent  editions  that  I  am  conversant  with ;   all,  with 


THE  HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  115 

the  one  exception  of  Mr.  Furness's  latest  volume,  his  King 
Lear,  where  it  is  carefully  attended  to.+  And  right  glad  am 
I  that  it  is ;  for,  as  I  must  think,  it  ought  never  to  have 
been  neglected. 

But,  in  certain  other  points,  —  points  where  nothing  of     5 
rhyme  or  meter  or  rhythm  or  sense  is  concerned,  —  I  have 
pursued,  and  shall  pursue,  a  somewhat  different  course.  —  It 
is  well  known  to  Shakespeareans  that  the  old  text  has  some 
twelve  or  fifteen,  perhaps  more,  instances  of  it  used  posses- 
sively, or  where  we  should  use  its,  the  latter  not  being  a  10 
current  form  in  the  Poet's  time,  though  then  just  creeping 
into  use.    And  so  the  English  Bible  as  originally  printed  in 
161 1,  has  not  a  single  instance  of  its:  it  has,  however,  one 
or  two,  perhaps  more,  instances  of  it  used  in  the  same  way. 
In  these  cases,  all  modern  editions,  so  far  as  I  know,  print  15 
its,  and  ar«,  I  hold,  unquestionably  right  in  doing  so.  It  is 
true,  Shakespeare's  old  text  has  repeated  instances  of  its, 
and  these  are  more  frequent  in  the  later  plays  than  in  the 
earlier.    And  in  most  of  these  cases  the  folio  prints  it  with 
an  apostrophe,  it 's ;  though  in  two  or  three  places,  if  not  20 
more,  we  there  have  it  printed  without  the  apostrophe. 

In  all  these  cases,  whether  of  it  or  it's  or  its,  I  make  no 
scruple  whatever  of  printing  simply  its ;  though  I  sometimes 
call  attention  to  the  old  usage  in  my  Critical  Notes.  For, 
in  truth,  I  can  perceive  no  sort  of  sense  or  reason  in  retain-  25 
ing  the  possessive  it  in  Shakespeare's  text,  or,  at  all  events, 
in  any  presentation  of  it  designed  for  common  use.  Yet  we 
have  some  recent  editing  apparently  taking  no  little  credit 
to  itself  for  keeping  up  and  propagating  this  unmeaning 
and  worthless  bit  of  archaic  usage ;  whereas  the  Poet  him-  30 
self  was  evidently  impatient  of  it,  as  he  shook  himself  more 
and  more  free  from  it,  the  riper  he  grew.    Of  course  the 


Il6  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

same  recent  editing  insists  punctually  on  keeping  the  apos- 
trophized form,  it 's,  wherever  the  folio  prints  it  so.  Surely 
there  is  no  more  reason  for  retaining  the  apostrophe  here 
than  there  is  for  omitting  it  in  the  numberless  cases  where 
5  the  folio  omits  it ;  as  in  "  like  my  brothers  fault,"  and 
"  against  my  brothers  life."  For  all  who  have  so  much  as 
looked  into  that  volume  must  know  that  genitives  and 
plurals  are  there  commonly  printed  just  alike. 

And  now  a  word  as  to  the  ordering  of  the  plays  in  this 

10  edition."*"  The  folio  has  them  arranged  in  three  distinct 
series,  severally  entitled  Comedies,  Histories,  and  Tragedies. 
The  plays  of  the  first  and  third  series  are  there  arranged 
seemingly  at  haphazard,  and  without  any  regard  to  the  order 
of  time  in  which  they  were  written ;    those  of  the  second 

15  or  historic  series,  simply  according  to  the  chronological 
order  of  the  persons  and  events  represented  in  them ;  the 
three  that  were  no  doubt  written  first  being  thus  placed 
after  several  that  were  of  later  composition.  In  this  edition, 
the   three  series  of  the  folio  are   kept  distinct ;  but  the 

20  several  plays  of  each  series  are  meant  to  be  arranged,  as 
nearly  as  may  be,  according  to  the  chronological  order  of 
the  writing.  This  is  done  merely  because  such  appears  to 
be  the  most  natural  and  fitting  principle  of  arrangement, 
and  not  that  the  Poet  may  be  read  or  studied  "  historically"  ; 

25  a  matter  which  is  made  a  good  deal  of  by  some,  but  which, 
as  it  seems  to  me,  is  really  of  no  practical  consequence 
whatever."1"  Nor  is  it  claimed  that  the  actual  order  of  the 
writing  is  precisely  followed  in  every  particular  :  in  fact, 
this  order  has  not  yet  been  fully  settled,  and  probably  never 

30  will  be  ;  though,  to  be  sure,  something  considerable  has  been 
done  towards  such  settlement  within  the  last  few  years. 
Cambridge,  August  2,  1880 


THE  HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  117 

To  my  original  Preface  I  am  now  moved  to  add,  from  a 
high  authority,  the  following  paragraphs  in  corroboration  of 
certain  points  therein  taken.  When  writing  that  Preface, 
I  either  had  not  read,  or  had  quite  forgotten,  the  matter 
in  question,  else  I  should  have  made  some  use  of  it  then.  5 
It  is  from  Dr.  C.  M.  Ingleby's  book  entitled  A  Complete 
View  of  the  Shakespeare  Controversy,  1861  :  "It  is  unfor- 
tunately true  that  in  an  enormous  number  of  instances  the 
text  of  Shakespeare,  whether  we  find  it  in  the  quartos  or 
the  folio,  is  in  such  an  abominably  corrupt  state,  that  eraen-  10 
dation  is  a  necessity,  and  must  be  acknowledged  to  be  so 
even  by  those  who  regard  it  as  an  evil,  and  would  never 
allow  it  where  any  kind  of  sense  can  be  tortured  out  of  the 
original  words.  Innumerable  are  the  phrases  out  of  which 
no  possible  sense  can  be  tortured,  by  any  kind  of  exegetical  15 
maneuver.  Every  editor  has  his  own  favorite  nostrums  for 
many  of  these  :  but  some  cases  are  so  hopeless,  that  it  is 
an  almost  universal  custom  for  editors  to  print  the  nonsense 
of  the  original  text,  in  sheer  despair  of  superseding  it  by 
any  plausible  emendations.  Of  these  almost  hopeless  cruces  20 
the  number  does  not  exceed  twenty-five.  In  some  the  diffi- 
culty lies  in  the  construction  of  the  sentence ;  in  others,  in 
the  use  of  words  which  have  not,  and  probably  never  had,  any 
meaning.  But  these  form  but  a  drop  in  the  '  multitudinous 
seas'  of  misprints  with  which  the  text  of  quartos  and  folios  are  25 
alike  overwhelmed.  In  fact,  it  is  not  going  too  far  to  affirm 
the  very  reverse  of  Professor  Craik's  dictum,  and  aver  that  the 
first  folio  edition  of  Shakespeare  is  the  worst-printed  work,  of 
any  pretensions  to  permanent  interest,  dramatic  or  otherwise, 
that  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  produced.  30 

"  Accordingly,  the  editors  and  conjectural  critics  of  the 
two  editions  cum  notis  variorum  not  unnaturally  fell  into  the 
extreme  of  loose  conjecture ;  they  were  more  anxious  to 


Il8  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

reform  than  to  understand  :  and  the  editions  of  our  own 
day  afford  abundant  evidence  of  a  reaction  upon  that  lax- 
ness  of  criticism,  and  almost  universally  err  in  the  extreme 
of  a  too  close  adherence  to  the  old  copies.  Against  this  blind 
5  deference  to  the  printed  authorities,  the  following  protest 
of  Mr.  W.  N.  Lettsom  cannot  be  too  often  repeated  : 

"  The  earlier  editors  were  no  doubt  far  too  ready  to  tamper 
with  the  original  text:  some  of  their  successors  have  run  into 
the  other  extreme  ;  they  perversely  maintain  the  most  ridicu- 

10  lous  blunders  of  the  old  copies,  and  almost  seem  disposed  to 
place  conjectural  criticism  on  a  level  with  haphazard  guesswork. 
What  is  called  conjecture,  however,  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  particular  application  of  circumstantial  evidence  ;  and, 
if  we  receive  such  evidence  when  property  or  life  is  at  stake, 

15  surely  we  should  not  reject  it  when  we  are  sitting  in  judgment 
merely  on  words  and  syllables.  At  any  rate,  we  should  be  sadly 
disappointed  if  we  expected  to  escape  the  hazards  of  conjec- 
ture by  a  servile  adherence  to  old  copies.  Scholars  and  critics 
are  not  the  only  persons  who  tamper  with  texts.    Correctors, 

20  transcribers,  and  compositors  have  been  much  too  ready  to 
alter  whatever  they  were  unable  to  understand  ;  their  stupid 
sophistications  have  too  often  overlaid  the  genuine  readings, 
and  have  been  blindly  received,  as  of  paramount  authority,  by 
the  unsuspecting  simplicity  of  overcautious  commentators. 

25  "  It  would  be  well  if  the  latter  stopped  here  :  unfortunately 
they  are  not  satisfied  with  retaining  corruptions  ;  they  must 
needs  attempt  to  defend  and  explain  them.  In  consequence 
they  get  into  a  bad  habit  of  wresting  and  straining  language, 
and  finally  become  thorough  proficients  in  the  bewildering  art 

30  of  forcing  any  sense   out   of  any  words.    In   their  desperate 
efforts  to  extract  sense  out  of  nonsense,  the  Poet  himself  has 
been  too  often  sacrificed  to  the  printer,  and  has  thus  gained  a 
character  for  obscurity  to  a  degree  far  beyond  his  deserts." 
Cambridge,  March  4,  1881 


DANIEL  WEBSTER 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

One  hundred  years  ago  to-day,  a  very  quiet  but  vastly 
fruitful  event  took  place  up  in  New  Hampshire  :  it  was  the 
birth  of  Daniel  Webster.  The  City  of  Boston  and  the  State 
of  Massachusetts  had  this  great  man  in  the  councils  of  the  5 
Nation  nearly  twenty -eight  years ;  and  I  think  I  may  safely 
say  that,  from  his  presence  and  services  there,  they  have 
reaped  more  of  honor  and  of  solid  benefit  than  from  all  the 
other  men  they  have  had  in  that  place  during  the  last  two 
generations  put  together.  Such  being  the  case,  I  had  hoped  10 
that  Boston  would  remember  her  illustrious  citizen,  her  peer- 
less statesman,  and  make  some  fitting  commemoration  of  the 
day.  She  has  not  seen  fit  to  do  so  ;  and  this  is  one  reason 
why  I  have  undertaken  to  do  what  I  can,  to  manifest  a  be- 
coming respect  for  the  hundredth  anniversary  of  Daniel  15 
Webster's  birth.+  I  fear,  indeed,  that  Boston  has  not  yet 
fully  recovered  from  that  old  disease  under  which  she  turned 
away  from  her  greatest  and  loveliest  man,  this  too  in  his 
gray-haired  age,  and  even  "  struck  him  with  her  tongue, 
most  serpent-like,  upon  the  very  heart."  In  earlier  days,  she  20 
seems  indeed  to  have  understood  and  appreciated  Webster 
pretty  well ;  yet  I  was  much  taken,  some  years  ago,  with  a 
remark  made  to  me  by  the  late  Judge  Redfield,  that  "  Boston 
never  could  get  water  enough  together  to  float  him." 

The  theme  I  am  to  speak  upon  is  one  that  lies  very  near  25 
my  heart,  this  too  both  as  an  American  and  as  a  man  ;  and 

119 


120  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

I  propose  to  utter  my  thoughts  with  considerable  plainness 
and  freedom.  For,  in  truth,  I  have  no  popularity  to  lose, 
and  do  not  care  to  make  any  ;  that  being  a  thing  I  have  no 
use  for,  nor  should  known  what  to  do  with,  if  I  had  it. 
5  As  Americans,  we  have  a  right  to  be  proud,  we  ought  to 
be  proud,  it  will  do  us  good  to  be  proud,  of  Daniel  Webster. 
He  is  the  one  imperial  intellect  of  our  nation ;  altogether 
the  greatest  and  most  catholic  mind  this  country  has  pro- 
duced.   In  fact,  he  is  not  so  properly  one  man  as  a  multi- 

10  tude  of  men,  rather  say,  a  multitudinous  man ;  the  varied 
powers,  that  are  commonly  dispersed  among  other  men, 
being  massed  and  consolidated  in  him.  He  stands  second 
to  none  of  our  lawyers ;  and  his  arguments  in  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States  probably  did  more  than  those 

15  of  any  other  one  man,  except  Chief  Justice  Marshall,  towards 
establishing  the  principles  and  the  practice  of  our  national 
Constitution. 

But  Webster  is  something  more  than  our  greatest  man  : 
he  is  one  of  the  world's  great  men.    Sage  and  venerable 

20  Harvard,  on  mature  consideration  no  doubt,  has  spoken 
him  for  one  of  the  seven  great  orators  of  the  world.  At  the 
theater  end  of  her  superb  Memorial  Hall,  which  has  the 
form  of  a  semicircular  polygon,  in  as  many  gablets  or  niches 
rising  above  the  cornice,  the  seven  heads,  of  gigantic  size, 

25  stand  forth  to  public  view.  First,  of  course,  is  Demosthenes 
the  Greek ;  second,  also  of  course,  Cicero  the  Roman ; 
third,  Saint  John  Chrysostom,  an  Asiatic  Greek,  born  about 
the  middle  of  the  fourth  century ;  fourth,  Jaques  Benigne 
Bossuet,  the  great  French  divine  and  author,  contemporary 

30  with  Louis  the  Fourteenth  ;  fifth,  William  Pitt  the  elder, 
Earl  of  Chatham,  an  Englishman  ;  sixth,  Edmund  Burke, 
an   Irishman,   probably  the  greatest   genius  of    them  all, 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  121 

though  not  the  greatest  orator ;  seventh,  Daniel  Webster. 
How  authentic  the  likenesses  may  be,  I  cannot  say,  except 
in  the  case  of  Webster  :  here  the  likeness  is  true ;  and,  to 
my  sense,  Webster's  head  is  the  finest  of  the  seven,  unless 
that  of  Bossuet  may  be  set  down  as  its  peer.  5 

In  the  world's  volume  of  illustrious  statesmen  also,  Web- 
ster's name  may  justly  hold  up  its  head  among  the  highest ; 
very  few  men  having,  in  this  capacity,  done  so  much  for  the 
political  order  and  welfare  of  mankind.  As  an  author,  again, 
he  stands  very  near,  if  not  in,  the  foremost  rank  of  English  10 
classics ;  some  of  his  speeches,  like  those  of  Burke,  holding 
much  the  same  relative  place  in  what  may  be  termed  delib- 
erative and  argumentative  discourse,  as  Paradise  Lost  holds 
in  epic  poetry,  Wordsworth's  Ode  on  Immortality  and  his 
Ode  to  Duty  in  lyrical  poetry,  and  Shakespeare's  four  great  15 
tragedies  in  the  sphere  of  dramatic  art.  But  what,  in  this 
regard  should  make  Webster  especially  dear  and  venerable 
to  us  is,  that  he  stands  unquestionably  at  the  head  of  our 
American  classics,  and  is  perhaps  the  only  one  of  our  authors 
that  will  live  and  be  studied  in  future  times  :  I  hope  indeed  20 
that  Bryant  will  so  live  also,  and  two  or  three  others,  but 
am  far  from  sure  of  it.  For  he  must  be  a  mighty  tall  man, 
I  can  tell  you,  whose  head  touches  the  classic  summit."1" 

It  seems  to  me  that  a  great  deal  too  much  stress  is  apt  to 
be  laid  nowadays,  at  least  among  us,  on  the  matter  of  style  :  25 
for  a  good  style  is  not  to  be  reached  by  making  it  a  para- 
mount aim  :  in  that  case  the  style  becomes  too  self-con- 
scious, thinks  quite  too  much  of  itself ;  whereas  the  proper 
virtue  of  style  lies  in  its  being  kept  altogether  subordinate  to 
something  else.  And  so  the  prime  secret  of  a  good  style  in  30 
writing  is,  that  words  be  used  purely  in  their  representative 
character,  or  as  standing  for  things,  and  not  at  all  for  their 


I22  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

own  sake.  This  it  is  that  so  highly  distinguishes  Webster's 
style,  —  the  best  yet  written  on  this  continent.  His  language 
is  so  transparent,  that  in  reading  him  one  seldom  thinks  of 
it,  and  can  hardly  see  it.     In  fact,  the  proper  character 

5  of  his  style  is  perfect,  consummate  manliness ;  in  which 
quality  I  make  bold  to  affirm  that  he  has  no  superior  in 
the  whole  range  of  English  prose  authorship  :  even  Burke's 
style,  though  richer  and  more  varied,  is  hardly  equal  to  his 
in  this  supreme  quality.     And  Webster,  in  his  Autobiog- 

10  raphy,  touches  the  secret  of  this.  "  While  in  college,"  says 
he,  "  I  delivered  two  or  three  occasional  addresses,  which 
were  published.  I  trust  they  are  forgotten  :  they  were  in 
very  bad  taste.  I  had  not  then  learned  that  all  true  power 
in  writing  is  in  the  idea,  not  in  the  style;  an  error  into 

15  which  the  Ars  rhetorica,  as  it  is  usually  taught,  might  easily 
lead  stronger  heads  than  mine."  + 

But  Webster  was  not  only  a  great  lawyer,  a  great  orator, 
a  great  statesman,  a  great  author,  a  mighty  discourser  :  he 
was  emphatically  a  great  man,  — great  in  intellect,  great 

20  in  eloquence,  great  in  soul,  great  in  character,  and  in  all 
the  proper  correspondences  of  greatness.  Mr.  Whipple,  in 
the  admirable  essay  prefixed  to  his  selection  of  Webster's 
speeches,  aptly  and  felicitously  applies  to  him  the  phrase, 
"colossal  manhood."     I  really  do  not  know  of  any  other 

25  single  phrase  that  fits  the  subject  so  well.  Those  who  often 
heard  Webster  in  familiar  conversation,  if  any  such  survive, 
will  probably  tell  us  they  never  heard  any  one  else  who 
approached  him  in  that  respect.  On  such  occasions  he 
not  seldom  had  the  Bible  for  his  theme  ;  and  those  who 

30  listened  to  his  talk  thereon  could  hardly  choose  but  believe 
that  either  the  Bible  was  inspired  or  else  the  speaker  was. 
But,  in  "  the  talk  that  man  holds  with  week-day  man,"  his 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  123 

greatness  was  so  tempered  with  sweetness  and  amiability, 
and  with  the  finer  and  softer  graces  of  eloquence,  that  one 
naturally  lost  the  sense  of  it.  For  he  had  no  airs  of  supe- 
riority; would  chat  with  the  humblest  as  with  a  brother  or 
a  friend.  And  I  have  it  from  those  who  knew  him  long  and  5 
well,  that  intimacy  never  wore  off  the  impression  of  his  great- 
ness :  on  the  contrary,  none  could  get  so  near  him,  or  stay 
near  him  so  long,  but  that  he  still  kept  growing  upon  them. 
A  test  that  few  men  indeed  can  stand  !  But  he  had  some- 
thing better  than  all  this  :  he  was  as  lovely  in  disposition  10 
as  he  was  great  in  mind  :  a  larger,  warmer,  manlier  heart, 
a  heart  more  alive  with  tenderness  and  all  the  gentle  affec- 
tions, was  never  lodged  in  a  human  breast.  Of  this  I  could 
give  many  telling  and  touching  proofs  from  his  private  his- 
tory, if  time  would  permit.  It  has  been  worthily  noted  how  15 
a  little  child,  on  entering  a  room  where  Webster  was  seated, 
and  looking  up  into  his  great  eyes,  as  these  grew  soft  and 
mellow  and  sweet  at  the  vision,  would  run  instinctively  into 
his  arms  and  nestle  in  his  bosom,  as  if  yearning  to  get  as  near 
as  possible  to  that  great,  tender  heart.  So  that  I  make  no  20 
scruple  of  regarding  Daniel  Webster  as  the  crowning  illus- 
tration of  our  American  manhood. 

In  the  higher  elements  of  oratory,  I  find,  or  seem  to  find, 
a  close  resemblance  between  Webster  and  Burke.  Both  are 
consummate  masters  of  rhetoric ;  yet  the  rhetoric  of  both  25 
is  generally  charged  to  the  utmost  with  energy  of  thought : 
no  hollowness  here;  no  "sweet  smoke";  nothing  of  mere 
surface  splendor ;  all  is  as  solid  as  marble.  Many  of  Web- 
ster's strains  in  this  kind  have  been  long  and  often  used  for 
exercise  in  declamation  ;  but  this  has  only  proved  that  no  30 
frequency  of  reading  or  hearing  can  wear  the  freshness  and 
verdure  out  of  them.     And,  in  the  line  of  parliamentary 


124 


HUDSON'S    ESSAYS 


eloquence,  nearly  everything  else  produced  in  this  country 
seems  to  me  tame  and  flat  beside  Webster's ;  while  Burke's 
has  well-nigh  spoiled  for  me  all  else  in  the  language  except 
Webster's.+ 

5  In  the  common  principles  of  all  social  and  civil  order, 
Burke  is  no  doubt  our  best  and  wisest  teacher.  In  handling 
the  particular  questions  of  his  time,  he  always  involves  those 
principles,  and  brings  them  to  their  practical  bearings,  where 
they  most  "  come  home  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men." 

10  And  his  pages  are  everywhere  bright  with  the  highest  and 
purest  political  morality.  Webster,  also,  is  abundantly  at 
home  in  those  common  principles  :  his  giant  grasp  wields 
them  with  the  ease  and  grace  of  habitual  mastery  :  there- 
withal  he    is    by   far    the  ablest   and    clearest    expounder 

15  we  have  of  what  may  be  termed  the  specialties  of  our 
American  political  system.  So  that  we  can  hardly  touch 
any  point  of  our  National  State,  but  that  he  will  approve 
himself  at  once  our  wisest  and  our  pleasantest  teacher.  In 
fact,  I  hardly  know  which  to  commend  most,  his  political 

20  wisdom,  his  ponderous  logic,  the  perfect  manliness  of  his 
style,  or  the  high-souled  enthusiasm  which  generally  ani- 
mates and  tones  his  discourse;  the  latter  qualities  being 
no  less  useful  to  inspire  the  student  with  a  noble  patriotic 
ardor  than  the  former  to  arm  him  with  sound  and  fruitful 

25  instruction. 

I  am  not  unmindful  that,  in  thus  placing  Webster  along- 
side of  Burke,  I  may  be  inviting  upon  him  a  trial  something 
too  severe."4"  I  do  not  indeed  regard  him  as  the  peer  of 
Burke  ;  but  it  is  my  deliberate  judgment  that  he  comes 

30  nearer  to  Burke,  and  can  better  stand  a  fair  comparison 
with  him,  than  any  other  English-speaking  statesman.  In 
pure  force  of  intellect,  Burke  may  be  something  ahead  of 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  125 

him,  and  is  far  beyond  him  in  strength  and  richness  of 
imagination ;  for  he  was,  as  Johnson  described  him,  emphat- 
ically "a  constellation  "  :  on  the  other  hand,  Burke's  tem- 
pestuous sensibility  sometimes  whirled  him  into  exorbitances, 
where  Webster's  cooler  temperament  and  more  balanced  5 
make-up  would  probably  have  held  him  firm  in  his  propriety. 
And  Webster,  though  far  above  imitating  any  man,  abounds 
in  marks  of  a  very  close  and  diligent  study  of  Burke.  It 
seems  specially  noteworthy,  that  he  was  thoroughly  at  one 
with  Burke  in  an  intense  aversion  to  political  metaphysics,  10 
and  to  those  speculative  abstractions  which,  if  attempted  to 
be  carried  into  the  practical  work  of  government,  can  never 
do  anything  but  mischief. 

This  reminds  me  to  say  something  of  the  distinguished 
Southerner  who  was  so  long  associated  with  Webster  in  our  15 
national  councils.  —  John  Caldwell  Calhoun  was  a  very  able 
man,  —  a  man,  too,  of  most  pure  and  honorable  character  ; 
a  perfect  gentleman  indeed,  as  Webster  also  was.    And  the 
two  men  had  a  profound  respect  for  each  other.4"  Webster 
admired  the  genius  of  Calhoun,  and  honored  him  for  his  20 
high  personal  worth.    Many  a  hard  pounding,  indeed,  they 
gave  each  other   in   the   national  Senate ;  but  their  hard 
poundings  were  always  so  marked  with  bland  and  good- 
natured  dignity,  that  no  ill  feeling  ever  sprang  up  between 
them :  each  had  indeed,  and  felt  that  he  had,  in  the  other  25 
a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel ;  and  their  official  intercourse 
may  be  justly  set  down  as  a  model  of  senatorial  courtesy. 
But  Calhoun,  it  seems  to  me,  was  rather  a  great  political 
metaphysician  than  a  statesman,  in  the  right  sense  of  the 
term.    In  the  latter  part  of  his  life  at  least,  he  was  much  30 
given  to  refining  among  political  abstractions,  where  all  sorts 
of  impracticable  theories  may  easily  be  knocked  together, 


126  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

and  as  easily  knocked  to  pieces.  Herein  Webster  differed 
from  him  in  toto  ;  and  would  never  go  along  at  all  with  the 
noble  Southerner  in  those  speculative  intricacies  where  men 
"  find  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost."  For  one  of  his 
5  prime  characteristics  was  a  large,  healthy,  vigorous,  unfail- 
ing common  sense,  which  always  withheld  him  from  extremes 
and  one-sideness,  and  kept  him  from  undertaking  to  upset 
or  overrule  experience  and  fact  by  dint  of  fine-spun  political 
theories.    He  was  indeed  a  very  monarch  of  common  sense  ; 

10  in  which  respect  he  probably  surpassed  Burke.  And  this, 
I  take  it,  comes  pretty  near  being  the  sovereign  element  of 
great  statesmanship.  —  Strange,  by  the  way,  that  the  thing 
should  be  called  commo7i  sense,  while  in  reality  it  is  one  of 
the  most  uncommon  things  in  the  world.    But  then,  though 

15  extremely  rare  in  possession,  it  is  very  common  in  recog- 
nition :  in  fact,  nearly  all  men  feel  it,  though  few  men 
have  it. 

Accordingly  in  a  speech  delivered  on  the  2  2d  of  March, 
1838,  Webster,  after  referring  to  certain  questions  wherein 

20  Calhoun  had  quite  shifted  off  from  his  old  ground,  has  the 
following  :  "  The  honorable  member  now  takes  these  ques- 
tions with  him  into  the  upper  heights  of  metaphysics,  into 
the  region  of  those  refinements  and  subtile  arguments  which 
he  rejected  with  so  much  decision  in  181 7.    He  quits  his 

25  old  ground  of  common  sense,  experience,  and  the  general 
understanding  of  the  country,  for  a  flight  among  theories 
and  ethereal  abstractions."  I  must  add,  that  Calhoun,  by 
his  course  in  this  respect,  probably  did  a  good  deal  more 
than  any  other  one  man  in  the  country  towards  hatching 

30  and  breeding  the  enormous  mischief  of  our  late  Civil  War. 
It  is  said  that  "  whom  the  gods  would  destroy  they  first 
make  mad  ";  and  I  can   hardly  conceive  a  surer  way  of 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  127 

drawing  men  into  suicidal  madness  than  by  fascinating  them 
with  metaphysical  subtilties  and  abstraction-mongering. 

It  is,  then,  full  time  that  Webster  should  be  reinstated  in 
the  place  he  held  some  thirty- five  years  ago  in  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  the  American  people.    He  is  as  great  now  as    5 
he  was  then,  for  time  gnaws  no  breaches  in  workmanship 
so  solid  as  his  ;   and  his  wise  counsels  are  as  applicable  and 
as  needful  in  all  the  leading  national  questions  of  this  day 
as  they  were  when  his  great  living  voice  was  heard  amongst 
us.    We  cannot  afford  to  forget  him,  or  to  leave  his  elo-  10 
quence  and  wisdom  out  of  our  mental  feeding.    For  the 
same  high  lessons,  the  same  sacred  inspirations,  are  needed 
still ;  as  much  so,  perhaps,  as  when  his  patriotic  ardor  and 
his  ponderous  logic  knocked  the  brains  out  of  Nullification 
and  Secession  in  the  halls  of  Congress.    For  these  reasons,  15 
and  sundry  others,  I  was  heartily  glad  when,  in   1879,  a 
choice  selection  of  his  speeches,  edited,  and  well  edited 
too,  by  Mr.  Edwin  Percy  Whipple  of  this  city,  was  given 
to  the  public  in  a  form  much  more  accessible  to  the  people 
generally  than  ever  before.    Surely  the  people  of  this  nation  20 
cannot  do  a  better  thing  for  themselves  and  their  children 
than  to  cherish  the  name  and  memory  of  Daniel  Webster 
among  their  dearest  household  treasures  ;  and  this  not  only 
as  the  fairest  outcome  of  American  genius  and  manhood, 
but  as  their  wisest  and  most  attractive  teacher  in  all  that  is  25 
or  should  be  nearest  their  hearts  as  citizens  of  this  great 
and  free  Republic."1" 

As  it  is  now  nearly  thirty  years  since  Webster  died,  I 
may  safely  presume  that  many  of  you,  perhaps  most  of  you, 
never  heard  or  saw  him.    I  will  therefore  endeavor  to  give  30 
some  personal  description  of  the  man.    I  saw  him  a  great 


128  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

many  times,  and  heard  him  repeatedly;  and  you  may  be 
sure  my  eyes  and  ears  were  seldom  idle  or  wandering  when 
they  had  him  in  view.  He  was  indeed  incomparably  the 
finest  looking,  rather  say  the  grandest  looking,  man  I  ever 
5  set  eyes  on.+  I  doubt  whether,  in  personal  appearance,  his 
peer  was  to  be  found  anywhere  on  the  planet  during  his 
time  ;  and  I  can  well  accept  as  authentic  the  remark  said 
to  have  been  made  by  some  one,  that  Daniel  Webster  must 
be  a  humbug,  for  no  man  could  possibly  be  so  great  as  he 

10  looked  to  be.  In  stature  he  was  of  medium  height,  about 
five  feet  and  ten  or  eleven  inches,  I  should  say  ;  his  form 
well  proportioned,  robust,  and  vigorous  ;  his  frame  close 
knit  and  firm  set ;  his  step  resolute  and  fearless ;  his 
carriage    erect    and    manly ;    his    presence    dignified   and 

15  impressive  in  the  highest  degree.  His  complexion  was 
dark,  insomuch  that  he  is  said  in  his  early  years  to  have 
been  familiarly  called  "black  Dan";  his  hair  a  pure  raven 
black,  till  time  sprinkled  it  with  snows.  I  am  little  booked 
in  physiology,  but  I  should  say  his  temperament  was  bilious 

20  sanguineous,  as  Burke's  appears  to  have  been  nervous  san- 
guineous. His  features  were  large  and  strong,  but  finely 
chiseled;  his  neck  thick  and  sinewy,  —  a  fitting  support 
for  the  magnificent  dome  poised  upon  it ;  his  chin  promi- 
nent just  to  the  point  where  firmness  stops  short  of  obsti- 

25  nacy  ;  his  mouth  calm  and  muscular  ;  his  eyes  big,  dark,  and 
blazing,  —  in  his  excited  moments  they  literally  seemed  two 
globes  of  fire  ;  his  forehead  high,  broad,  projecting,  and  mas- 
sive, —  a  very  cathedral  indeed  of  thought ;  and  the  whole 
suffused  and  harmonized  with  an  air  of  majestic  grace. 

30  So  that  the  predominant  expression  of  his  face  and  head 
was  that  of  immense  power,  but  of  power  held  perfectly  in 
hand,  and  therefore  sure  to  know  its  time.    Hawthorne,  in 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  129 

his  Marble  Faun,  has  an  expression  so  fine  in  itself  and  so 
apposite  to  Webster,  that  ever  since  my  first  reading  of  the 
book  it  has  stuck  to  my  memory  in  connection  with  him. 
Speaking  of  the  celebrated  bronze  statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
the  Emperor,  he  says,  "  its  very  look  is  at  once  a  command  5 
and  a  benediction."  In  his  later  years,  Webster  was  often 
spoken  of  as  "  the  godlike  Daniel  "  ;  and,  sure  enough,  the 
heads  that  I  have  seen  of  old  god  Jupiter  do  not  show  an 
ampler  dome  or  a  more  commanding  outlook  of  intellectual 
majesty.  Doubtless  it  was  greatly  owing  to  this  expression  10 
of  innate  power  which  radiated  from  him,  that  even  in  his 
old  age,  when  many  minds  were  full  of  devouring  thoughts 
about  him,  wherever  he  was  present  in  person  he  was  like 
Daniel  in  the  lions'  den  :  the  lions  might  indeed  growl 
behind  their  teeth,  but  they  swallowed  their  rage,  and  dared  15 
not  open  their  mouths  to  bite  him.  —  Webster  was  a  modest 
man  ;  everything  about  him  was  unaffected,  genuine  ;  no 
assumption,  no  arrogance,  no  conceit :  his  dignity  of  man- 
ner, his  greatness  of  look,  were  native  to  him  ;  and  the  im- 
pression his  speaking  always  made  upon  me  was  such  that  I  20 
cannot  better  describe  it  than  as  follows  : 

With  grave 
Aspect  he  rose,  and  in  his  rising  seem'd 
A  pillar  of  State  ;  deep  on  his  front  engraven 
Deliberation  sat,  and  public  care  ;  25 

And  princely  counsel  in  his  face  did  shine 
Majestic :    .    .    .    sage  he  stood 
With  Atlantean  shoulders  fit  to  bear 
The  weight  of  mightiest  monarchies ;  his  look 
Drew  audience  and  attention  still  as  night,  30 

Or  Summer's  noontide  air. 

Webster's  vast  power  of  intellect  is  admitted  by  all :  but 
it  is  not  so  generally  known  that  he  was  as  sweet  as  he  was 


130  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

powerful,  and  nowhere  more  powerful  than  in  his  sweetness. 
When  thoroughly  aroused  in  public  speech,  there  was  indeed 
something  terrible  about  him  ;  his  huge  burning  eye  seemed 
to  bore  a  man  through  and  through  :   but  in  his  social  hours, 

5  when  his  massive  brow  and  features  were  lighted  up  with  a 
characteristic  smile,  it  was  like  a  gleam  of  Paradise  ;  no 
person  who  once  saw  that  full-souled  smile  of  his  could  ever 
forget  it.  His  goodly  person,  his  gracious  bearing,  and  his 
benignant  courtesy  made  him  the  delight  of  every  circle 

io  he  entered  :  in  the  presence  of  ladies,  especially,  his  great 
powers  seemed  to  robe  themselves  spontaneously  in  beauty  ; 
and  his  attentions  were  so  delicate  and  so  respectful,  that 
they  could  not  but  be  charmed. 

In  the  summer  of  1839,  Webster,  with  several  members 

1 5  of  his  family,  made  a  private  visit  to  England  ;  and  it  is  both 
pleasant  and  edifying  to  learn  how  he  impressed  the  people 
there."1"  Hallam,  we  are  told,  was  "extremely  struck  by  his 
appearance,  deportment,  and  conversation."  Carlyle  pro- 
nounced him  "a  magnificent  specimen";  adding,  withal,  that, 

20  "  as  a  preliminary  Hercules,  one  would  incline  to  back  him 
at  first  sight  against  all  the  extant  world."  Mr.  John  Kenyon 
traveled  with  him  four  days.  Writing,  in  1853,  to  Mr.  George 
Ticknor,  of  Boston,  he  says  that  the  acquaintance  thus  formed 
"  enabled  me  to  know  and  to  love  not  only  the  great-brained, 

25  but  large-hearted,  genial  man  ;  and  this  love  I  have  held  for 
him  ever  since,  through  good  report  and  evil  report ;  and  I 
shall  retain  this  love  for  him  to  the  day  of  my  own  depart- 
ure." Again,  referring  to  some  of  Webster's  playful  sallies  : 
"  Fancy  how  delightful  and  how  attaching  I  found  all  this 

30  genial  bearing  from  so  famous  a  man  ;  so  affectionate,  so 
little  of  a  humbug.  His  greatness  sat  so  easy  and  calm  upon 
him  ;  he  never  had  occasion  to  whip  himself  into  a  froth." 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  131 

Before  proceeding  further,  I  must  frankly  admit  certain 
drawbacks  and  exceptions  in  the  character  of  my  theme. 
For  I  have  lived  too  long  in  this  world  to  approve  of  every- 
thing that  any  man  does,  or  to  expect  any  man  to  approve 
of  everything  that  I  do.  And  I  remember,  also,  the  saying  5 
of  a  very  wise  author,  that  "  the  web  of  our  life  is  of  a 
mingled  yarn,  good  and  ill  together  :  our  virtues  would 
be  proud,  if  our  faults  whipped  them  not ;  and  our  faults 
would  despair,  if  they  were  not  cherished  by  our  virtues." 
And  so,  to  be  sure,  I  have  never  known  any  man  or  woman  10 
who  seemed  to  me  absolutely  perfect,  and  I  venture  to 
doubt  whether  there  be  one  such  now  in  this  room  :  I  have 
indeed  met  several  who  thought  or  seemed  to  think  them- 
selves so  ;  but  in  that  case  I  always  like  to  know  what  their 
neighbors  think  about  it.  At  all  events,  Webster,  like  15 
other  men,  certainly  had  his  faults  and  imperfections  ;  and, 
amidst  so  much  that  was  great  and  noble,  candor  may  not 
permit  the  blemishes  to  be  passed  over  in  silence  ;  though 
I  hope  to  keep  ever  in  mind  the  saying  of  Burke,  "  He 
censures  God,  who  quarrels  with  the  imperfections  of  men."  20 
And  even  the  faults  which  I  find  in  Webster  appear  to  me 
mainly,  if  not  entirely,  as  things  lying  on  the  outside  and 
surface  of  his  character,  not  as  entering  into  the  heart  and 
substance  of  it. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  it  is  thought  by  many,  and,  I  25 
am  apt  to  think  myself,  that  Webster  sometimes  got  too 
nervously  anxious  to  be  President  of  the  United  States.  A 
great  authority  tells  us  that  "  ambition  is  the  last  infirmity 
of  noble  minds."  Webster  undoubtedly  had  that  infirmity 
in  a  high  degree.  As  far  back  as  1834,  he  began  to  be  30 
talked  of  for  the  presidency  ;  and  from  that  time  onward 
his  aspirations  looked,  probably  with  increasing  strength, 


132  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

to  that  office.  But  I  do  not  believe,  and  I  challenge  any- 
body to  prove,  that  he  ever  did  anything  wrong,  or  any- 
thing mean,  that  he  ever  swerved  a  hair  from  his  honest 
convictions  of  duty,  in  order  to  gain  the  office.  Nor  did 
5  he  affect  any  indifference,  or  use  any  arts  of  conceal- 
ment, about  it :  all  was  frank,  open,  and  aboveboard  with 
him ;  no  intrigue,  no  playing  at  hide  and  seek,  no  political 
trickery,  had  roothold  in  his  ambition.  On  this  head,  we 
may,  with  supreme  fitness,  apply  to  him  what  he  himself 

io  said  of  Calhoun  :  "  If  he  had  aspirations,  they  were  high 
and  honorable  and  noble  :  there  was  nothing  groveling  or 
low  or  meanly  selfish,  that  came  near  the  head  or  the  heart 
of  Mr.  Calhoun." 

The  truth  is,  Webster  had  early  and  honestly  identified 

1 5  himself  with  what  was  then  known  as  the  Whig  party  against 
what  was  called  the  Jackson  party.  The  latter  had  openly 
put  forth  as  its  motto,  "To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils"  : 
but  the  Whig  politicians  soon  became  even  more  recklessly 
eager  to  act  on  this  principle  than  their  opponents  were. 

20  Webster  did  not  share  with  them  at  all  in  this  passion  ;  he 
set  his  face  against  it  utterly  :  and,  though  they  wanted  his 
help,  and  gloried  in  his  leadership,  they  were  still  dissatis- 
fied with  him  because  he  would  not  "  narrow  his  mind, 
and  to  party  give  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind."     He 

25  told  the  country  again  and  again,  that  the  spoils  system,  as 
it  is  called,  would,  if  persisted  in,  "  entirely  change  the 
character  of  our  government."  We  have  been  hearing  a 
great  deal  lately,  none  too  much  though,  about  the  cor- 
ruption and  demoralization  growing  out  of  this  abominable 

30  system.  Well,  Webster  foresaw  and  foretold  the  whole  evil 
and  danger  of  it  fifty  years  ago  ;  his  most  emphatic  repro- 
bation of  it  being  uttered  in  a  speech  at  Worcester,  on  the 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  133 

1 2th  of  October,  1832.  But  the  thing  was  vastly  popular 
then,  and  brought  immense  eclat  and  success  to  the  authors 
of  it.  The  politicians  all  went  for  it  of  course,  and  egged 
it  on  as  a  grand  step  of  progress  and  reform  ;  for  such  men 
are  always  sure  to  be  sailing  with  the  wind,  it  being  the  5 
height  of  their  ambition  to  serve  as  weathercocks  on  the  top 
of  an  edifice,  exalted  for  their  levity  and  versatility,  so  as  to 
indicate  each  shifting  of  the  popular  gale.  But  Webster  was 
quite  another  sort  of  man  ;  a  man  built  high  and  strong  in 
moral  courage  :  and  the  great  trouble  with  him  was,  that  he  10 
was  ever  stemming  some  headlong  current  of  popularity,  and 
indeed  "  striding  so  far  ahead  of  the  time  as  to  dwarf  him- 
self by  the  distance."  I  could  point  out  many  instances 
where  he  planted  himself  square  against  the  popular  rush 
and  clamor  of  the  day.  So  he  stood  inexorably  firm  against  15 
the  incorporation  of  Texas  ;  and  he  did  this  expressly  on 
the  ground,  that  he  never  would  consent  to  add  a  single 
foot  to  the  area  of  slavery.  Here,  again,  the  thing  was 
hugely  popular  :  and  so  even  Northern  Freesoilers,  as  they 
were  then  called,  went  for  it,  and  it  was  carried  by  their  20 
votes  ;  Webster,  meanwhile,  solemnly  forewarning  them  that 
it  would  one  day  shake  the  government  to  its  foundations. 
And,  sure  enough,  that  one  act  was  the  seminal  principle, 
the  prolific  germ,  of  our  Civil  War,  with  all  its  terrible,  its 
unspeakable  retributions.  25 

Though  myself  for  many  years  among  the  stanchest  of 
Whigs,  yet  I  must  now  confess  that  the  Whig  party,  as  a 
whole,  was  a  confoundedly  mean  party,  —  mean  in  its  impo- 
tent craving  for  "  the  loaves  and  fishes,"  mean  in  its  unblush- 
ing preference  of  success  without  merit  to  merit  without  30 
success ;  false  to  its  professions,  false  to  its  leaders,  false  to 
itself.    But  it  has  ever  been  the  curse  of  democracies  to  be 


134  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

infested  with  greedy  demagogues,  that  is  to  say,  with  mere 
politicians,  —  probably  the  meanest  and  most  noxious  ani- 
mals on  the  planet.  They  will  at  all  times  eat  any  quantity 
of  dirt  to  the  people,  to  get  the  people's  votes.  This  Web- 
5  ster  never  did,  never  would  do.  Accordingly  he  was  in  fact 
treated  better  by  his  political  opponents  than  by  his  politi- 
cal associates.  In  1836  the  Whigs  nominated  Mr.  Clay. 
This  was  a  good  nomination,  and  Webster  sustained  it 
heartily.    Failing  to  elect  Clay,  the  party  then  got  badly 

10  smitten  with  the  disease  of  "availability";  in  other  words, 
the  Whig  politicians  were  dying  for  the  spoils.  In  the 
strength  of  that  disease,  they  elected  General  Harrison  in 
1840,  and  General  Taylor  in  1848  :  but  they  failed  to  elect 
General  Scott  in  1852  ;  whereupon  the  party  died  of  that 

15  disease,  as  indeed  it  richly  deserved  to  do.  I  have  it  on 
good  authority,  that,  soon  after  the  nomination  of  Scott, 
Webster,  then  struggling  with  his  last  sickness,  said  to  his 
son  Fletcher,  "  My  son,  never  undertake  to  serve  the  Whig 
party  ;  Sir,  the  Whig  party  cannot  be  served." 

20  I  say  we  all  know  that  Webster  aspired  to  the  presidency. 
Well,  he  had  a  right  to  aspire  to  the  presidency ;  he  ought 
to  have  aspired  to  it ;  he  must  have  been  either  more  or  less 
than  a  man,  not  to  have  so  aspired  :  for  he  could  hardly 
help  seeing,  what  everybody  else  saw,  that  he  was  generally 

25  thought  to  be  altogether  the  fittest  man  in  the  country  for 
that  place.  And  here  I  am  minded  to  relate  a  rather  appo- 
site passage  that  occurred  during  the  presidential  campaign 
of  1852.  The  matter  was  told  me  by  Mr.  William  Bates,  (I 
think  his  name  was  William,)  a  prominent  lawyer  and  an 

30  estimable  gentleman,  of  Westfield,  Massachusetts,  long  a  per- 
sonal and  political  friend  of  Webster.  It  so  happened  that 
they  met  and  rode  together  in  a  car.    Their  talk  naturally 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  135 

ran  a  good  deal  upon  the  political  movements  of  the  day. 
In  the  course  of  their  talk,  Mr.  Bates  said  to  Webster, 
"  Well,  Mr.  Webster,  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  have  often  asked  myself  whether,  after  all,  the 
presidency  could  do  anything  for  you :  and  really,  Mr.  5 
Webster,  I  doubt  whether  it  could  ;  I  am  inclined  to  think 
you  are  quite  as  well  without  it."  Webster  replied  :  "To  be 
frank  with  you,  Mr.  Bates,  the  same  question  has  occurred 
to  me.  And  perhaps  it  is  as  you  say ;  perhaps  I  am  just  as 
well  without  that  office.  But,  Sir,  it  is  a  great  office  ;  why,  10 
Mr.  Bates,  it  is  the  greatest  office  in  the  world  :  and  I  am 
but  a  man,  Sir ;  I  want  it,  I  want  it."  Now,  if  there  be  any 
man  who  thinks  a  jot  the  worse  of  Daniel  Webster  for  all 
this,  I  confess  I  would  a  little  rather  not  ride  in  the  same 
coach  with  that  man.  15 

Webster  did  not  rise  to  that  office,  or  rather  the  office  did 
not  rise  to  him  :  it  could  have  added  no  honor  to  him  ;  he 
would  have  added  much  honor  to  it.  In  truth,  as  matters 
then  stood,  he  was  too  great  for  the  place,  or  rather  he  was 
a  greater  man  than  the  politicians  thought  it  for  their  interest  20 
to  have  there.  For  our  politicians,  to  be  sure,  like  to  have 
their  pockets  well  filled,  or  their  ships  well  ballasted,  with  the 
office  patronage  of  the  government ;  and  so  they  of  course 
prefer  to  see  the  presidency  held  by  a  putty- head  or  a  dough- 
face ;  that  is  to  say,  a  man  whom  they  can  work  and  wind  25 
and  manage.  Webster  felt  the  event  deeply,  indeed,  too 
deeply.  And  what  I  rather  regret  than  censure  in  him  is,  that 
he  did  not  view  the  result  with  that  calmness,  that  philoso- 
phy, which  the  world  had  a  right  to  expect  from  so  great  a 
man ;  that  he  allowed  himself  to  be  grieved  and  worried  by  30 
the  disappointment  more  than  in  reason  he  ought.  Doubt- 
less his  grief  was  the  deeper,  because  he  was  conscious  of 


136  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

having  served  his  country  faithfully  and  well ;  for  the  sense  of 
such  injustice  joined  with  such  ingratitude  cuts  to  the  quick  : 
but  he  should  have  stayed  his  lion-hearted  manhood  on  the 
fact,  notorious  in  all  ages,  that  politicians,  in  their  miserable 
5  shortsightedness,  will  at  any  time  sacrifice  their  best  friends 
in  the  vain  hope  of  gaining  support  from  their  opponents. 

In  the  second  place,  Webster  was  something  too  loose  in 
his  money  matters.  Though  second  to  none  of  our  states- 
men as  a  financier  for  the  public,  he  allowed  his  own  private 

10  finances  to  be  much  disordered  ;  was  too  careless  of  incurring 
debts,  not  careful  enough  of  paying  them.  This  I  reckon  a 
greater  fault  than  the  former  :  in  that,  he  only  wronged  him- 
self; in  this,  he  did  wrong  to  others.  Of  course  nobody 
can  suppose  he  meant  to  keep  from  others  their  dues ;  but 

15  this  is  not  quite  enough.  Probably  the  right  explanation  is, 
that  he  had  his  big  head  swarming  with  big  thoughts,  and  so 
was  oblivious  in  this  point. 

A  little  incident  has  come  to  my  knowledge,  which  may 
here  illustrate  his  character.    I  have  been  told  that,  on  some 

20  occasion,  Mr.  Seaton,  one  of  the  editors  of  The  National 
Intelligencer,  called  on  Webster  in  Washington,  and  had  a 
talk  with  him.  During  their  interview,  a  beggar  man  came 
into  the  room,  and  solicited  an  alms.  Webster,  without 
pausing  in  his  talk,  thrust  his  fingers  into  his  vest  pocket, 

25  pulled  out  a  bill,  and  handed  it  to  the  man,  who  then  went 
out.  When  the  talk  came  to  a  pause,  Mr.  Seaton  asked 
Webster  if  he  knew  what  he  had  given  to  that  beggar 
man.  "  Beggar  man?  "  said  Webster  ;  "  what  beggar  man?  " 
"Why,"  said  Mr.  Seaton,  "  the  one  who  came  in  just  now, 

30  while  you  were  talking."  "  O  yes,"  said  Webster,  "  it  seems 
to  me  I  do  remember  something  about  it.  Well,  what  did  I 
give  him?"    "A  hundred-dollar  bill,"  said  Mr.  Seaton. 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  137 

Now,  a  man  may  have  a  right,  though  even  that  is  doubt- 
ful, to  be  oblivious  of  what  is  due  in  this  kind  from  others  to 
himself ;  but  no  one  has  a  right  to  be  oblivious  of  what  is 
due  from  himself  to  others.  True,  Webster  was  as  far  as 
possible  from  being  either  stingy  or  grasping.  If  prodigal  5 
of  his  own  means,  he  was  nowise  greedy  of  other  men's. 
Neither  did  he  ever  use,  or  abuse,  his  place  in  the  govern- 
ment to  the  ends  of  self-enrichment.  Herein  it  may  well  be 
wished  that  more  of  our  present  national  lawmakers  were 
guilty  of  his  worst  fault :  in  that  case,  I  suspect  their  patri-  10 
otic  toils  would  not  prove  quite  so  remunerative  as  they  often 
do.  Webster,  indeed,  cared  nothing  for  money,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  had  "  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand  open  as  day 
for  melting  charity  "  ;  and  whatever  cash  he  at  any  time  had 
in  his  purse  ran  away  as  freely  as  water,  whether  in  payment  15 
of  debts  or  in  relief  to  the  needy.  I  am  only  sorry  he  was 
not  more  mindful  to  be  just  before  being  generous  either  to 
others  or  to  himself. 

But  then  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that,  in  giving  himself 
up  to  the  public  service,  he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  the  20 
greater  part  of  a  large   professional  income.    After   being 
twice  elected  to  Congress  in  his  native  State,  he  removed 
from  Portsmouth  to  Boston  in   181 7,  where  he  forthwith 
entered  upon  a  career  of  great  professional  distinction,  and 
his  legal  practice  soon  rose  to  the  amount  of  twenty  thousand  25 
dollars  a  year  ;  which  was  a  prodigious  income  for  a  lawyer  in 
those  times.    The  good  people  of  Boston  repeatedly  urged 
him  to  let  himself  be  nominated  for  Congress,  which  he 
repeatedly  declined,  chiefly  on  the  ground  that  he  could  not 
afford  it.    At   length,  in   1823,  they  may  be  said  to  have  30 
forced  the  nomination  upon  him  :  he  reluctantly  yielded, 
and  was  elected.    After  serving  through  one  Congress,  he 


I38  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

was  elected  again  in  1825,  having  4990  votes  out  of  5000. 
Now,  our  national  legislators  at  that  time  were  paid  only  eight 
dollars  a  day,  and  this  only  during  the  actual  session  of  Con- 
gress.   No  wonder  Webster  held  back  from  such  a  curtail- 

5  ment  of  his  means.  For  he  was  by  nature  free,  generous, 
and  magnificent  in  his  dispositions.  Later  in  life,  his  vast 
reputation,  the  dignity  and  elegance  of  his  manners,  the 
engaging  suavity  and  affability  of  his  conversation,  in  a  word, 
the  powerful  magnetism  of  the  man,  drew  a  great  deal  of 

o  high  company  round  him,  and  necessarily  made  his  expenses 
large.  Then  too  all  the  money  in  the  country  could  not 
measure  the  worth  of  his  services.  Still  it  would  have  been 
better  for  his  peace  of  mind,  and  would  have  saved  a  deal 
of  ugly  scandal,  if  he  had  kept  strictly  within  the  small 

1 5  returns  which  his  great  public  services  brought  in  to  him. 

It  is  but  just  to  add  that  in  his  closing  years  his  mind 

became  very  uneasy  on  this  account.    In  the  spring  of  1852, 

he  being   then  in  President   Fillmore's  cabinet,   a  fee   of 

$15,000  was  offered  him  by  Goodyear  &  Company  to  engage 

20  his  services  in  their  great  India-rubber  case.  He  wanted  the 
fee,  but  was  very  loath  to  undertake  the  case,  as  it  seemed  to 
him  hardly  becoming  for  one  in  his  position  to  do  so.  His 
friends,  however,  the  President  among  them,  strongly  advised 
him  to  accept  the  offer  :   so  he  argued  and  won  the  case. 

25  He  is  said  to  have  expressed  a  wish  for  one  more  such  fee, 

as  this  would  discharge  his  debts,  and  make  him  a  free  man. 

Touching  this  matter,  certain  people  are  wont  to  speak 

of  Webster  as  if  no  other  great  man  had  ever  run  into 

like  embarrassments.    Now,  Charles  Watson  Wentworth,  the 

30  celebrated  Marquis  of  Rockingham,  died  in  1782,  while 
he  was  Prime  Minister.  The  day  before  his  death,  he  gave 
special  directions    to    have   a   codicil    added    to    his  will, 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  139 

canceling  all  acknowledgments  of  debt  due  to  him  from  his 
"  admirable  friend,  Edmund  Burke."  The  amount  of  Burke's 
indebtedness  to  his  lordship  is  not  precisely  known  ;  but  it 
is  said  to  have  been  not  less  than  ^30,000.  As  money  was 
then  probably  worth  twice  as  much  as  in  Webster's  time,  5 
this  would  make  a  sum  nearly  equivalent  to  $300,000  in  our 
reckoning.  But  Rockingham's  mind  was  framed  in  such 
nobility  of  justice,  that  he  seemed  to  think  himself  only  hon- 
ored by  such  munificence  to  the  transcendent  statesman  of 
his  age  ;  whose  services,  however,  to  his  country  had  not,  up  10 
to  that  time,  come  anywhere  near  those  rendered  to  this 
nation  by  Webster.  But  both  these  great  men  were  alike 
drawn  away  from  living  for  themselves,  and  from  work  that 
pays,  to  a  course  of  living  and  working  for  mankind,  —  a 
service  that  commonly  has  to  be  its  own  reward.  15 

Webster's  service  to  the  country  was  fully  commensurate 
with  his  greatness  as  a  man.  It  may  well  be  questioned, 
indeed,  whether  even  Washington  himself  did  the  nation 
greater  service  than  he  :  for  without  our  American  Union 
the  achievement  of  our  American  independence  could  hardly  20 
have  proved  a  blessing.  And  so  I  think  the  history  shows 
us  that,  during  the  interval  from  the  Revolution  to  the  Con- 
stitution, the  States  were  not  nearly  so  well  off  as  they  had 
been  under  the  British  rule.  That  rule  was  of  course 
imperial ;  and  such,  in  substance  and  effect,  is  the  rule  of  25 
our  national  government  now.  And,  surely,  some  such  para- 
mount and  inclusive  authority  was  and  ever  must  be  need- 
ful in  order  to  keep  peace  between  the  States ;  otherwise 
it  were  hardly  possible  to  prevent  a  chronic  antagonism  and 
bloody  quarrels  from  springing  up  amongst  them.  There  30 
seems  to  be,  indeed,  for  the  American  people,  no  middle 


140  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

or  tenable  ground  between  the  government  of  our  present 
National  Union  and  that  state  of  things,  at  once  horrible  and 
contemptible,  which  we  call  Mexicanism ;  and,  rather  than 
the  nation  should  become  Mexicanized,  it  were  far  better 

5  that  the  whole  land,  with  all  the  people  on  it,  should  be 
sunk  in  the  depths  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  with  Webster,  love  of  that  Union, 
ingenerate  in  his  nature,  and  cherished  by  his  education,  had 
grown  with  his  growth,  and  strengthened  with  his  strength. 

10  He  was  elected  to  the  National  Senate  in  1827.  Early  in 
his  senatorial  career  he  saw  that  certain  causes  or  forces 
were  working  deeply  and  silently,  and  therefore  the  more 
dangerously,  to  bring  about  a  rupture  of  that  Union.  He 
also  saw  that,  if  the  structure  of  our  National  State  were  once 

15  demolished,  it  could  never  be  rebuilt.  He  also  saw  that, 
for  preventing  this,  two  things  were  needful :  first,  that  the 
people  needed  to  have  their  minds  rightly  and  thoroughly 
informed  in  the  nature  and  principles  of  our  Constitution  ; 
second,  that  they  needed   to    have    their    hearts    inspired 

20  with  a  deep,  earnest,  heroic  passion  of  nationality,  with  an 
ardent,  self-sacrificing  devotion  to  the  Union,  as  it  was. 

Thus  his  eye  took  in  the  whole  situation,  his  mighty  grasp 
of  thought  surrounded  the  entire  question.  He  therefore 
set  himself,  with  all  his  powers  of  mind  and  body,  to  the 

25  work,  and  never  ceased  till  the  work  was  done.  For  more 
than  twenty  years,  it  was  the  main  burden  of  all  his  thought 
and  all  his  discourse.  He  was  a  great  lawyer,  and  he  knew  the 
law  :  he  was  a  great  orator,  and  could  speak  what  he  knew ; 
he  was  a  great  statesman,  with  his  mind  thoroughly  at  home 

30  in  the  creative  and  controlling  forces  of  social,  civil,  and 
political  well-being  :  therewithal  he  had  that  indispensable 
element  of  all  high  statesmanship,  a  large,  warm,  tender 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  141 

heart :  and  in  the  strength  of  this  combination  he  saw  and 
felt  that  the  preservation  of  our  National  Union  was  the  one 
thing  needful  above  all  others  to  the  welfare  of  the  American 
people.  So,  in  due  time,  he  just  educated  and  kindled  the 
people  up  to  his  own  height,  filling  their  minds  with  his  5 
thoughts,  their  hearts  with  his  fervor,  their  mouths  with 
his  words.  In  doing  this,  he  won  the  title  of  the  great 
Expounder  and  the  great  Defender  of  the  American  Consti- 
tution, and  surely  no  title  was  ever  better  deserved.  On  the 
26th  of  January,  1830,  he  met  the  great  champion  of  South-  10 
ern  Nullification  in  the  Senate,  wrestled  with  him,  threw 
him,  and  broke  every  bone  in  his  body.  I  think  I  may 
safely  affirm  that  this  reply  to  Hayne  produced  a  greater 
effect  than  any  other  speech  ever  delivered  in  the  world; 
excepting,  of  course,  those  recorded  in  the  Bible.  Speeches  15 
greater  in  themselves  have  indeed  been  made  :  Webster  him- 
self has  several  that  are  greater ;  and  some  of  Burke's,  I 
suspect,  are  greater  than  any  of  his  ;  but  no  one  of  Burke's, 
nor  any  other  of  Webster's,  came  up  to  that  in  effectiveness. 
This  was  greatly  owing  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  20 
time,  and  the  state  of  the  public  mind.  The  tide  of  dis- 
union sentiment  was  then  setting  in  fast  and  strong  ;  men's 
minds  were  becoming  deeply  excited  and  agitated  with 
doubts  and  misgivings  ;  on  all  hands,  the  worth  and  stability 
of  the  Union  were  drawn  in  question  :  Webster  turned  that  25 
tide  completely,  and  it  has  gone  on  ebbing  ever  since  :  in 
short,  that  speech  made,  and  marks,  the  beginning  of  a 
new  era  in  our  national  life  :  from  that  time  forward,  other 
thoughts  and  other  feelings  took  fast  roothold  in  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  the  people.  30 

Mr.  Hayne  was  a  superb  man,  able,  eloquent,  honorable, 
high  souled.    Not  long  after  Webster's  speech,  he  withdrew 


142  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

from  the  Senate,  and  was  replaced  by  a  much  greater  cham- 
pion of  the  same  cause,  who,  meanwhile,  had  resigned  the 
office  of  Vice-President  for  that  very  purpose.  When  the 
question  came  up  again,  Mr.  Calhoun  waited  till  most  of 
5  the  Senators  on  the  other  side  had  said  the  best  they  could 
for  the  Union ;  he  then  took  the  floor,  and  in  a  rapture  of 
logic  tore  their  arguments  all  to  shreds,  and  sent  them  flying 
like  straws  in  a  tempest.  Then  came  Webster's  turn.  So,  on 
the  1 6th  of  February,  1833,  he  took  the  floor,  and  just  drove 

10  a  huge  wedge  of  adamantine  logic  right  through  the  center 
of  Calhoun's  masterly  argument,  splitting  it  clean  asunder 
from  end  to  end.  Nullification  was  now  fairly  pounded  to  a 
jelly,  nor  was  it  ever  after  able  to  resume  the  form  of  bone 
and  muscle  in  Congress.    Then  and  there  it  was  that  the 

15  real  battles  of  the  Union  were  fought  and  won.  For  the 
cause  had  to  be  tried  in  the  courts  of  legislative  reason  before 
it  could  come  to  trial  in  the  field  of  battle  ;  nor,  in  all  human 
probability,  would  it  ever  have  triumphed  in  the  latter,  if  its 
right  so  to  triumph  had  not  first  been  made  good  in  the 

20  former  :  and  that  this  right  was  there  and  thus  made  good, 
was  mainly  owing,  under  God,  to  the  Herculean  intellect,  the 
mighty  eloquence,  the  great  soul,  the  generous  and  compre- 
hensive wisdom  of  Daniel  Webster. 

Of  course  we  all  understand  that  slavery  was  at  the  bottom 

25  of  this  whole  business.  Other  causes  were  indeed  often 
alleged,  but  this  was  only  a  disguise,  and  probably  deceived 
nobody.  Now,  Webster  hated  slavery  much,  and  on  all 
proper  occasions  he  was  downright  and  outspoken  in  his 
aversion  to  it.    He  thought  it  a  great  moral,  social,  and 

30  political  evil,  a  consuming  cancer,  the  immedicabile  minus 
of  the  social  body ;  and  he  often  so  declared  himself.  He 
also  saw,  what  I  suppose  we  all  see  now,  that  there  was  no 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  143 

power  in  the  country  which  could  kill  slavery  but  the  national 
government,  and  that  the  national  government  could  do  this 
only  in  the  exercise  of  its  military  power,  and  in  a  case  of 
actual  war,  —  civil  war  ;  and  this  was  a  remedy  which,  vastly 
to  his  credit,  he  could  not  bear  to  think  of.  5 

I  believe  —  I  hope  you  all  believe  —  that  love  is,  in  gen- 
eral, if  not  universally,  a  higher,  better,  stronger  force  than 
hate.  I  also  hold,  —  do  not  you  ?  —  that  love  of  that  which 
is  good  is  a  better  and  stronger  principle  than  hatred  of  that 
which  is  bad  ;  though  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  hatred  10 
of  what  is  bad.  I  have  said  that  Webster  hated  slavery 
much  :  he  did  so,  his  whole  life  proves  it ;  but  he  loved  the 
Union  more,  yes,  a  good  deal  more,  than  he  hated  slavery. 
He  believed  slavery  to  be  bad  ;  he  believed  the  Union  to  be 
good.  That  love  was,  indeed,  all  through  his  public  life,  a  15 
passion  with  him ;  nay,  more,  it  was  the  master  passion  of 
his  soul :  it  had  penetrated  every  fiber  of  his  being.  To  his 
eye,  "  Earth  had  not  anything  to  show  more  fair  "  than  the 
august  and  beautiful  fabric  of  our  National  State.  That  this 
mighty  structure,  this  masterpiece  of  political  architecture,  20 
should  be  laid  in  the  dust,  was  too  much  for  him  :  the  very 
thought  of  it  literally  wrung  his  heart  with  anguish.  His 
supreme  desire  was,  to  have  the  Union  so  strengthened,  so 
established  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  people,  so  bound 
up,  so  interwoven  with  their  dearest  household  ties  and  25 
affections,  that  neither  slavery  nor  any  other  power  should 
be  able  to  prevail  against  it. 

Now,  there  was  a  considerable  and  a  growing  class  of  peo- 
ple at  the  North  who  got  so  possessed  with  an  all-absorbing, 
all-consuming  hatred  of  slavery,  that  they  went  to  hating  the  30 
Union  on  slavery's  account :  on  all  hands  their  orators  were 
denouncing  the  Constitution  as  "a  covenant  with  Hell"; 


144  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

were  openly  avowing  the  wish,  nay,  the  purpose,  of  having 
it  exploded ;  and  their  burning  words  were  threatening  to 
kindle  such  a  fire  as  would  burn  it  down.  Even  Washing- 
ton himself  also,  and  others  who  had  the  strongest  claims  to 
5  gratitude  and  veneration  as  the  founders  and  benefactors 
of  our  Republic,  were  daily  dragged  forth  by  them,  to  be 
roasted  in  the  fires,  or  tortured  on  the  racks  of  detraction 
and  defamation ;  like  men  desecrating  the  sepulchers  and 
exhuming  the  bones  of  their  fathers,  in  order  to  gibbet  them 

io  before  the  world.  At  the  same  time,  there  was  a  consider- 
able and  a  growing  class  of  people  at  the  South,  who  got 
so  possessed  with  an  all-absorbing,  all-consuming  love  of 
slavery,  that  they  also  went  to  hating  the  Union  for  slavery's 
sake,  and  openly  embarked  in  a  crusade  for  breaking  it  up. 

15  Though  the  spirit  of  disunion  had  been  thrashed  out  of 
the  ugly  form  of  Nullification,  still  it  was  not  dead ;  and  it 
soon  after  reappeared  in  the  garb  of  a  very  gentle,  harmless, 
smiling  lady  named  Peaceable  Secession.  Thus  the  extrem- 
ists of  both  sections,  the  extreme  haters  of  slavery  at  the 

20  North,  and  the  extreme  lovers  of  slavery  at  the  South,  were 
practically  leagued  together  in  a  common  cause,  conjointly 
aiming  to  break  up  the  Union,  to  demolish  the  fabric  of 
our  National  State,  at  once  the  fortress  and  the  temple  of 
American  freedom ;  though,  to  be   sure,  they  were  doing 

25  this  from  opposite  motives,  the  former  to  destroy  slavery, 
the  latter  to  perpetuate  it.  Divided  in  their  ultimate  aims, 
they  were  nevertheless  united  in  their  present  purpose.  And 
the  war  of  words  between  them  kept  waxing  hotter  and 
hotter  year  after  year. 

30  At  length,  in  1850,  the  thing  was  visibly  growing  to  a  head. 
Webster  saw  —  at  least  he  believed  —  that  the  South  were 
in  dead  earnest,  that  they  had  worked  themselves  up  to  the 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  145 

full  bent,  and  were  really  of  a  mind  to  do  what  they  were 
threatening,  come  what  might.    He  also  saw  that  the  con- 
troversies then  raging  between  the  North  and  the  South, 
unless  they  could  be  allayed,  must  soon  culminate  in  seces- 
sion and  civil   war.    The  South  were  talking  of  peaceable    5 
secession.    Webster  knew  that  secession  would  not,  could 
not,  be  peaceable.    So,  in  his  speech  on  the  7  th  of  March, 
fixing  his  big,  blazing  eyes  full  on  the  Southern  members,  he 
spoke  these  words  :  "  Peaceable  secession  !    Sir,  your  eyes 
and  mine  are  never  destined  to  see  that  miracle.    Who  is  so  10 
foolish  —  I  beg  everybody's  pardon  —  as  to  expect  to  see 
any  such  thing?    There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  peaceable 
secession.    Peaceable  secession  is  an  utter  impossibility.    Is 
the  great  Constitution  under  which  we  live,  covering  this 
whole  country,  is  it  to  be  thawed  and  melted  away  by  seces-  15 
sion,  as  the  snows  on  the  mountain  melt  under  the  influence 
of  a  vernal  sun,  disappear  almost  unobserved,  and  run  off? 
No,   Sir  !    No,  Sir  !     I  will  not  state  what  might  produce 
the  disruption  of  the  Union  ;   but  I  see,  as  plainly  as  I  see 
the  sun  in  heaven,  what  that  disruption  itself  must  produce  :  20 
I  see  that  it  must  produce  war,  and  such  a  war  as  I  will  \aot 
describe,    in    its    twofold  character."    The   words  twofold 
character  were  a  hint,  if  they  would  but  take  it,  that  in  such 
a  war  the  beloved  slavery  they  were  fighting  for  would  prove 
an  ugly  thorn  in  their  side.  25 

Now,  for  the  prevention,  or,  if  this  might  not  be,  for  the 
postponement,  of  such  an  issue,  Webster  felt  that  every  dan- 
ger must  be  braved,  every  exertion  made,  every  sacrifice 
incurred.  For  these  reasons,  he  put  forth  his  whole  strength 
in  favor  of  the  Compromise  Measures  of  1850.  He  well  30 
knew  the  risk  he  was  running ;  but,  in  his  judgment,  the 
occasion  called  on  him,  imperatively,  to  stand  to  the  work. 


146  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

His  language  to  a  private  friend  was,  "  It  seemed  to  me  that 
the  country  demanded  the  sacrifice  of  a  human  victim,  and 
I  saw  no  reason  why  I  should  not  be  the  victim  myself." 
So,  in  the  last  hope  of  saving  his  cause,  he  deliberately 
5  staked  his  all.  He  himself  went  down  indeed,  but  the 
cause  was  saved.  In  all  this,  most  assuredly,  he  was  right, 
nobly  right,  heroically  right.  And  his  whole  action  at 
that  time  proved  him  to  be  as  great  morally  as  he  was 
intellectually. 

10  In  another  speech,  on  the  1 7  th  of  July,  —  the  last  he  ever 
made  in  the  Senate,  —  he  closed  with  the  following  :  "  For 
myself,  I  propose,  Sir,  to  abide  by  the  principles  and  the 
purposes  which  I  have  avowed.  I  shall  stand  by  the  Union, 
and  by  all  who  stand  by  it.    I  shall  do  justice  to  the  whole 

15  country,  according  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in  all  I  say,  and 
act  for  the  good  of  the  whole  country  in  all  I  do.  I  mean 
to  stand  upon  the  Constitution.  I  need  no  other  platform. 
The  ends  I  aim  at  shall  be  my  country's,  my  God's,  and 
Truth's.    I  was  born  an  American  ;   I  will  live  an  American  ; 

20  I  shall  die  an  American  ;  and  I  intend  to  perform  the  duties 
incumbent  upon  me  in  that  character  to  the  end  of  my 
career.  I  mean  to  do  this  with  absolute  disregard  of  per- 
sonal consequences.  What  are  personal  consequences? 
What  is  the  individual  man,  with  all  the  good  or  evil  that 

25  may  betide  him,  in  comparison  with  the  good  or  evil  which 
may  befall  a  great  country  in  a  crisis  like  this?  Let  the 
consequences  be  what  they  may,  I  am  careless.  No  man 
can  suffer  too  much,  and  no  man  can  fall  too  soon,  if  he 
suffer  or  if  he  fall  in  defense  of  the  liberties  and  Constitution 

30  of  his  country."  These  words,  I  confess,  have  to  me  a  very 
solemn  and  pathetic  interest,  as  the  last  ever  spoken  by  our 
incomparable  Senator  in  that  capacity. 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  147 

The  Compromise  Measures  were  at  last  carried;  and  it  is 
admitted  by  all  that  they  could  not  have  been  carried  with- 
out Webster's  powerful  aid.  Thus  the  explosion,  then  so 
imminent,  was  postponed.  Ten  years  of  time  were  thereby 
gained.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  this  gaining  of  time  5 
saved  the  Union  :  for  we  may  well  shudder  to  think  of  what, 
in  all  probability,  would  have  been  the  result,  had  the  explo- 
sion come  on  in  1851,  instead  of  186 1.  At  the  former 
period,  we  had  a  divided  North  and  a  united  South.  Dur- 
ing the  interval,  the  hideous  doings  in  Kansas  took  place ;  10 
which  so  disgusted  and  alienated  the  Northern  people,  that 
we  then  had,  for  the  first  time,  the  golden  prospect  of  a 
divided  South  and  a  united  North. 

Webster's    course   touching   the    Compromise   Measures 
drew  upon  him  a  perfect  tempest  of  obloquy  and  abuse  15 
both    North  and    South.    My  father-in-law,   the   late   Mr. 
Henry  Bright,  of  Northampton,  a  very  clear-headed  and 
just-thinking  man,  was  in  Mobile  on  private  business  at  the 
time  when  Webster's  speech  of  the  7  th  of  March  reached 
that  city.    He  told  me  that  the  "  fire-eaters  "  there  were  20 
seized  with  such  an  inexpressible  rage  against  Webster,  that 
he  really  believed,  if  they  could  have  got  hold  of  him,  they 
would  have  chopped  him  all  to  pieces.    At  the  same  time, 
and  for  the  same  cause,  the  extremists  at  the  North  went 
with  equal  fury  to  butchering  his  character,  —  a  sort  of  25 
butchery  not  very  much  better,  perhaps,  than  the  other.    I 
have  no  language  to  describe  the  shocking  bitterness  and 
virulence  with  which  his  name  was  vilified  and  hunted  down 
here  in  New  England.    Why,  the  moral  and  social  atmos- 
phere of  Boston  is  still  sick  with  the  abominable  venom  30 
spouted  against  him  here  by  certain  liberal  preachers  and 
lecturers.    For  I  suppose  we  all  know  that  the  most  illiberal 


148  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

and  venom-mouthed  men  in  the  world  are  often  found  among 
those  who  make  special  professions  of  liberality,  and  greatly 
pride  themselves  thereon ;  men  who  insist  on  being  them- 
selves perfectly  free  to  think  and  speak  their  own  thoughts, 
5  and  on  having  all  others  perfectly  free  to  think  and  speak 
just  as  they  do.  For  we  are  to  note  that  the  words  liberty 
and  liberality  are  of  kindred  origin  and  meaning  :  and  what 
is  the  use  of  our  having  liberty,  if  we  be  not,  ipso  facto,  free 
to  traduce  and  begnaw  and  blacken  all   who  are  so  de- 

10  praved  as  not  to  accept  our  judgment  for  their  own?  Now, 
for  my  part,  I  wish  to  be  liberal  even  towards  illiberality 
itself ;  yet  must  confess  I  sometimes  find  this  rather  diffi- 
cult. The  truth  of  the  matter,  as  nearly  as  I  can  understand 
it,  runs  about  thus  :  The  men  in  question  had  conceived 

15  a  bitter  hatred  of  the  Union  ;  Webster  had  thoroughly  iden- 
tified himself  with  the  Union  :  so  they  just  transferred  their 
hatred  of  the  Union  to  him  ; +  for  such  men  always  take 
more  pleasure  in  hating  a  person  than  a  thing  ;  and  this,  I 
suppose,  partly  because  a  person  naturally  has  sensibilities 

20  that  may  be  hurt,  which  a  thing  has  not :  they  were  labor- 
ing with  all  their  might  to  destroy  the  Union;  Webster  had 
saved  the  Union ;  and  now  they  were  possessed  with  an 
intense  longing  to  destroy  him.  It  may  almost  be  said 
indeed  that  they  did  destroy  him  :  at  least  their  envenomed 

25  calumnies  greatly  embittered  his  closing  years,  and  sent 
him  sorrowing  to  his  grave.  But  they  did  not  destroy  his 
work:  the  Union  was  saved.  In  all  this  we  have  a  memor- 
able instance  of  what  fanaticism  can  do,  especially  when 
actuated  by  a  sort  of  philanthropic  ferocity.     Nor  has  the 

30  spirit  engendered  by  those  proceedings  fully  died  out 
yet :  even  to  this  day  it  is  hardly  safe  for  a  man  to  speak 
an  honest  plain  word  in  defense  of  this  part  of  Webster's 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  149 

life,  lest  popular  odium  should  pelt  him  with  mud  or  some- 
thing worse. 

Now,  during  all  those  years  I  was  myself  a  most  cordial 
hater  of  slavery;   though  I  never  went  to  the  extreme  —  God 
forbid!  —  of  hating  either  the  Union  or  Webster  :  for  how    5 
hatred  of  these  could  do  anything  towards  pulling  slavery 
down,  was  quite  beyond  me.    Nor  was  I  ever  able  to  com- 
prehend why  the  Abolitionists  should  make  it  an  exercise  of 
religion,  as  they  did,  to  go  about  cursing  and  reviling  all  that 
was  greatest  and  best  in  the  work  of  our  national  fathers  :  it  10 
seemed  to  me  then,  as  it  seems  to  me  now,  an  aggravated 
revival  of  that  old  mystery,  the  odium  theologicum;  that  is  to 
say,  the  offspring  of  sheer  fanaticism,  and  a  very  malignant 
fanaticism  too ;  the  selfsame  spirit  that  has  more  than  once 
set  men  to  cutting  throats  in  the  name  of  liberty  and  phi-  15 
lanthropy. 

As  for  the  speech  of  the  7  th  of  March,  for  which  Webster 
was  so  bitterly,  so  atrociously  maligned,  I  have  read  that 
speech  a  great  many  times,  and  I  do  not  know  of  a  single 
word  in  it  that  I  would  have  otherwise  than  as  it  is.  I  think  it  20 
every  way  just  such  a  speech  as  should  have  been  made  at 
that  time  by  a  great  man,  who  had  a  great  Union  to  save, 
and  a  great  civil  war  to  avert."1"  Nor  could  Webster  have  con- 
sistently taken  any  other  course  :  he  would  have  belied  his 
whole  record,  he  would  have  been  recreant  to  the  sovereign  25 
aim  of  his  life,  if,  in  that  great  national  crisis,  he  had  not 
thrown  all  other  regards  to  the  winds,  and  made  the  Union 
his  paramount,  nay,  his  exclusive  concern.  So,  there  again, 
though,  to  be  sure,  with  his  great  heart  quivering  and  bleed- 
ing at  the  defection  of  friends,  and  the  cruel,  cruel  aspersions  30 
of  those  whom  he  had  loved  so  deeply  and  served  so  de- 
votedly, he  stood  firm  as  a  rock  against  the  surging  and 


150  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

dashing  waves  of  unpopularity  in  his  own  cherished  home. 
Seeing  the  peril  as  he  saw  it,  he  must  needs  have  braved 
popular  clamor  as  he  braved  it,  else  he  would  have  ceased 
to  be  Daniel  Webster.  So  that  Massachusetts  went  back  on 
5  him,  or  froze  off  from  him,  just  at  the  very  time  when  he  was 
worthiest  of  her  love  and  honor.  But  then  we  all  ought  to 
know  that,  in  all  cases,  the  blind  or  the  blear-eyed  many 
are  pretty  sure  to  denounce  and  defame  the  one  who  sees. 
When,  in  1830  and  1833,  Webster  encountered  Nullification 

10  in  debate,  and  strangled  it  in  the  crushing  anaconda  folds  of 
his  logic  and  eloquence,  he  appeared  great  indeed,  and  was 
great ;  though  he  then  had  all  New  England  and  most  of  the 
entire  North  backing  him  up  and  cheering  him  on.  But  a 
great  man  never  appears  so  great  as  when  he  stands  true  to 

15  himself  and  his  cause,  with  all  the  world  against  him.  And 
so,  to  my  thinking,  at  no  other  time  of  his  life  did  Webster's 
stubborn  greatness  of  soul,  his  "  colossal  manhood,"  tower 
up  in  such  monumental  grandeur  as  when,  in  1850,  he  stood 
true  to  himself,  "  unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified,"  with  all 

20  New  England  and  most  of  the  entire  North  banded  together 
to  pelt  him  off  and  hiss  him  down. 

The  fineness  of  such  metal  is  not  found 
In  Fortune's  love ;  for  them  the  bold  and  coward, 
The  hard  and  soft,  seem  all  affined  and  kin : 
25  But,  in  the  wind  and  tempest  of  her  frown, 

Distinction,  with  a  broad  and  powerful  fan, 
Puffing  at  all,  winnows  the  light  away ; 
And  what  hath  mass  and  matter,  by  itself 
Lies  rich  in  virtue  and  unmingled. 

30  Webster  had  foreseen  and  foretold  a  whirlwind  of  civil 
war  as  the  inevitable  consequence  of  the  wind  which  the  an- 
tagonist extremists  were  sowing.    Both  parties  alike  laughed 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  I  5  I    ■ 

him  to  scorn  ;  they  derided  his  fears,  they  despised  his 
warnings  ;  could  not  speak  of  them  save  as  themes  of  scoff- 
ing and  ridicule  ;  saying  that  they  were  the  mere  offspring 
of  his  inordinate  ambition  ;  that  he  had  turned  prophet 
merely  because  he  wanted  to  be  President.  Nor  did  they  5 
give  over  this  work  when  the  great  man  died  :  they  even 
made  his  death  a  crime  ;  alleging  that  he  had  died  of  dis- 
appointed ambition  and  from  the  effects  of  personal  vices  ; 
just  as  if  a  man  at  the  age  of  three-score  and  ten  had  not 
a  right  to  die  !  Now,  Webster,  I  take  it,  was  at  least  not  a  10 
fool,  not  absolutely  a  fool.  Nor  was  he  so  little  read  in  the 
book  of  human  nature  and  human  life  as  not  to  know  that 
the  course  he  was  taking  could  not  possibly  gain  him  any- 
thing at  the  South,  while  it  was  sure  to  lose  him  much  at 
the  North.  Any  man  with  but  half  an  eye  could  not  fail  15 
to  see  that.  And  Webster  himself  had  plainly  declared  it 
in  a  passage  I  have  already  cited.  Strange,  strange  indeed, 
what  absurd  reasons  even  good  men  will  sometimes  stick 
upon,  for  thinking  that  a  man  cannot  possibly  differ  from 
them  in  opinion,  unless  he  have  a  bad  heart !  20 

So,  in  the  instance  before  us,  the  treatment  Webster  re- 
ceived proceeded,  apparently,  upon  the  rather  odd  notion, 
that,  in  the  political  questions  of  the  time,  he  was  just  the 
last  man  in  the  country  who  ought  to  be  allowed  to  have 
a  mind  of  his  own.  A  great  many  people  in  Massachusetts,  25 
it  seems,  could  nowise  conceive  on  what  ground,  or  by  what 
right,  he  should  presume  to  have  a  mind  larger  than  their 
own  State,  or,  at  all  events,  larger  than  their  own  section. 
That  his  heart  dared  to  be  big  enough  to  embrace  the  whole 
United  States,  and  to  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less,  and  that  30 
his  moral  manhood  spread  so  wide,  and  stood  so  firm,  as 
to  be  unflinchingly  steadfast  to  the  integrity  of  the  Union,  — 


152  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

this  was,  in  the  eye  of  Massachusetts,  an  unpardonable  sin : 
she  could  not  forgive  it  then,  she  has  not  forgiven  it  now. 
But,  assuredly,  Webster's  great  soul  will  sooner  or  later  be 
found  to  have  been  greater  than  she,  and  will  prove  too 
5  strong  for  her  yet.  For,  indeed,  he  was  not  her  man  ;  he 
was  emphatically  the  nation's  man  :  and,  though  he  loved 
her  deeply,  yet  he  would  not  budge  an  inch  from  his  life- 
long purpose  as  an  American,  to  gratify  her  sectional  nar- 
rowness, or  her  war-kindling  philanthropy. 

10  How  he  thought  and  felt  touching  this  whole  matter,  is 
perhaps  best  shown  in  a  speech  made  at  Buffalo  on  the  2  2d 
of  May,  185 1.  Of  course  he  is  referring  to  his  line  of  action 
in  1850  :  "  I  am  an  American.  I  was  made  a  whole  man, 
and  I  did  not  mean  to  make  myself  half  a  one.    I  felt  that 

15  I  had  a  duty  to  perform  to  my  country,  to  my  own  reputa- 
tion ;  for  I  flattered  myself  that  a  service  of  forty  years  had 
given  me  some  character,  on  which  I  had  a  right  to  repose 
for  my  justification  in  the  performance  of  a  duty  attended 
with  some  degree  of  local  unpopularity.    I  thought  it  was 

20  my  duty  to  pursue  this  course,  and  I  did  not  care  what  was 
to  be  the  consequence.  I  felt  it  was  my  duty,  in  a  very 
alarming  crisis,  to  come  out ;  to  go  for  my  country,  and  my 
whole  country  ;  and  to  exert  any  power  I  had,  to  keep  that 
country  together.    I  cared  for  nothing,  I  was  afraid  of  noth- 

25  ing,  but  I  meant  to  do  my  duty.  Duty  performed  makes 
a  man  happy  ;  duty  neglected  makes  a  man  unhappy.  I 
therefore,  in  the  face  of  all  discouragements  and  all  dangers, 
was  ready  to  go  forth  and  do  what  I  thought  my  country, 
your  country,  demanded  of  me.    And,  Gentlemen,  allow  me 

30  to  say  here  to-day,  that  if  the  fate  of  John  Rogers  had  stared 
me  in  the  face,  if  I  had  seen  the  stake,  if  I  had  heard  the 
fagots  already  crackling,  by  the  blessing  of  Almighty  God  I 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  153 

would  have  gone  on  and  discharged  the  duty  which  I  thought 
my  country  called  upon  me  to  perform." 

I  think  very  highly  of  our  Mr.  Whittier  both  as  a  poet  and 
as  a  man.    I  hold  him  to  be  a  man  of  real  genius,  and  of  an 
altogether  honorable  and  lovable  character.    But  he  has    5 
one  little  piece  that  I  am  sorry  for.    It  was  written  in  1850, 
and  is  entitled  Ichabod.+  I  cannot  see  that  it  has  any  great 
merit  as  poetry  ;  and  I  see,  or  seem  to  see,  in  it  not  a  little 
fault  of  uncharitableness :  nay,   I  must  go  further,  —  the 
uncharity  of  it  is  simply  atrocious.    Now,  I  do  not  believe  10 
there  is  or  can  be  an  honester  man  than  Mr.  Whittier ;  but 
I  hold  Webster  to  have  been  every  whit  as  honest  as  he,  and 
at  the  same  time  a  thousandfold  wiser  and  vastly  more  chari- 
table.   It  is  no  business  of  mine,  nor  do  I  propose  to  make 
it  my  business  ;  but,  if  I  were  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  15 
Whittier,  I  should  be  very  earnest  with  him  to  recall  and 
suppress  that  poem.    It  is  not  worthy  of  him.    But,  whether 
he  did  so  or  not,  I  should  still  continue  to  honor  him  all  the 
same,  notwithstanding.    It  is  nowise  likely  that  I  shall  ever 
give  a  lecture  upon  him  ;  if,  however,  I  were  to  do  so,  I  am  20 
afraid  I  should  have  to  note  this  as  a  greater  fault  in  him 
than  any  I  am  able  to  find  in  Webster. 

It  is  but  fair  to  add,  indeed  it  would  be  hardly  fair  not  to 
add,  that  Mr.  Whittier  has  lately  put  forth  another  poem,  in 
which  he  makes  some  considerable  amends  for  the  piece  of  25 
1850.  This  is  entitled  The  Lost  Occasion,  and  was  pub- 
lished in  The  Atlantic  Monthly  for  April,  1880  ;  not  known 
to  me,  however,  when  the  foregoing  strictures  were  written.4" 
In  his  later  piece,  the  author  thinks  that,  if  Webster  had 
lived  ten  years  longer,  he  would  have  been  "disillusioned."  30 
Webster  disillusioned  !  Disillusioned  of  what?  Why,  his 
presentiments,   his  predictions,  all   his  worst  forebodings, 


154  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

were  justified,  and  more  than  justified,  by  the  event.  Was 
his  prevision  of  civil  war  an  illusion?  Nay,  the  horrors  and 
agonies  of  that  war  altogether  outstripped  the  utmost  that 
even  he  had  strength  to  apprehend.  Truly,  one  would  think 
5  that  Mr.  Whittier,  and  not  Webster,  was  the  man  to  be  dis- 
illusioned. Potent,  potent  indeed  must  have  been  the  spell 
which,  in  so  fair  a  mind,  those  four  dreadful  years  of  civil 
carnage  could  not  break  ! 

In  the  earlier  piece,  at  all  events,  Mr.  Whittier  prophesied 

10  an  untrue  thing,  —  for  Webster's  glory  has  not  departed ;  — 
is  it  not  a  glorious  thing  to  be  enrolled  by  wise  old  Harvard 
as  one  of  the  seven  great  orators  of  the  world  ?  —  in  that 
case  at  least,  I  say,  Mr.  Whittier  prophesied  an  untrue  thing, 
—  and  he  was  believed  ;  Webster  prophesied  a  true  thing, 

15  and  he  was  not  believed  :  for,  indeed,  "his  was  the  wise 
man's  ordinary  lot,  to  prophesy  to  ears  that  would  not  hear." 
But  Massachusetts  had  then  outgrown  Webster,  —  so  far 
outgrown  him  as  to  prefer  one  Horace  Mann,  who  was 
among  the  loudest  in  rancorous  invective  against  him.    So, 

20  to  shame  Webster  into  her  wisdom,  her  honorable  Legisla- 
ture had  a  statue  of  the  said  Horace  Mann  set  up  in  front 
of  the  Capitol,  and  there  it  stands  now.  (By  the  way,  I  wish 
the  friends  of  Webster  would,  some  Sunday  night  when  the 
moon  is  shining,  reverently  take  his  statue  out  of  that  inclo- 

25  sure,  and  put  it  in  some  humbler  place.  For,  surely,  Webster 
is  not  worthy  to  stand  there  in  such  high  company ;  no,  he 
is  not  worthy  of  that !)  And  Massachusetts  has  kept  on 
growing  since  :  why,  she  has  grown  almost  to  the  bigness 
of  General  Butler  !    She  has  not  indeed  quite  overtaken  his 

30  stature  yet ;  but  perhaps  she  will  erelong,  for  she  is  still 
growing.  Yet  no  !  I  doubt  whether  she  will  ever  grow  big 
enough  for  him,  —  big  enough  either  to  swallow  him  or  be 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  155 

swallowed  by  him  ;  though,  to  be  sure,  he  is  the  owner,  or 
the  tenant  in  fee,  of  "an  unbounded  stomach." 

Well,  when  at   length  Webster's    predictions   began  to 
come  true  ;  when  Secession  stood  forth  an  actual  fact,  a 
presence  that  could  not  be  put  by,  the  political  leaders  of    5 
the  Northern  extremists,  both  in  and  out  of  Congress,  were 
utterly  aghast,  as  indeed  they  well  might  be,  at  the  final 
outcome  of  their  doings.    They  had,  by  their  incantations, 
raised,  or  helped  to  raise,  something  that  looked  very  like 
the  Devil ;  and  now  the  one  all-engrossing  thought  was  how  10 
to  get  rid  of  it.    They  had  not  believed  the  South  were  really 
in  earnest,  and  they  had  imputed  Webster's  belief  of  it  to 
bad  motives.    But  there  the  thing  was  at  last ;  and  what 
could  be  done  with  it?  that  was  the  question.    So  they  put 
their  heads  together,  and  made  a  formal  proposition  to  the  15 
Southern  leaders,  solemnly  pledging  themselves  to  use  all 
their  efforts  to  carry  through  such  an  amendment  of  the 
Constitution  as  would  secure  slavery  absolutely  and  forever 
against  all  interference  by  the  general  government.    The 
Southern  leaders,  in  the  misplaced   pride  of  their  hearts,  20 
spurned  away  the  proposition,  and  laughed  at  the  makers 
of  it.    They  had  got  their  heads  very  high. 

The  extremists  of  both  sections  had  at  first  hated  Webster 
because  they  did  not  understand  him,  and  had  wronged  him 
because  they  hated  him  ;  and  now  they  kept  on  hating  25 
him  because  they  had  wronged  him.  He  had  forewarned 
them  of  a  particular  mischief  as  the  sure  result  of  the  course 
they  were  taking ;  they  had  despised  his  counsels,  and 
ascribed  them  to  an  evil  mind  :  and  when  his  forecast 
became  a  fact,  instead  of  relenting  towards  him,  they  even  30 
hated  him  worse  than  ever  ;  the  very  thought  of  him  stung 
them  with  self-reproach  ;  and  they  sought  to  avenge  upon 


156  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

him  the  mischief  they  had  brought  upon  themselves,  and 
went  to  accusing  him  as  the  author  of  what  he  had  foretold. 
So,  within  the  last  few  years,  I  have  repeatedly  found  men 
seriously  holding  Webster  responsible  for  our  Civil  War  ! 
5  Such  is  human  nature  ;  and  so,  in  all  ages,  have  men  been 
wont  to  recompense  their  greatest  benefactors !  But  wis- 
dom not  the  less,  though  late,  is  sure  to  be  justified  of  her 
children.    And  so,  assuredly,  it  will  be  with  Webster. 

At  the  time  I  am  referring  to,  Webster's  body  had  been 

10  in  the  grave  nearly  eight  years  and  a  half ;  but  his  spirit, 
though  slumbering,  was  still  alive,  and  would  not  die.  His 
words  were  on  the  lips  and  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  from 
Maine  to  California.  Mark,  then,  how  "  the  whirligig  of 
time  brought  in  his  revenges."    When  at  length  the  attack 

15  on  Fort  Sumter  rang  all  through  the  land  like  an  omni- 
present clap  of  thunder,  then  it  was  that  Webster's  spirit 
awoke  as  from  the  dead.  This  time,  the  South  had  raised 
a  spirit,  not  indeed  so  hideous  as  the  one  I  mentioned 
before,  but  a  great  deal  more  terrible.    That  spirit  was  — 

20  love  of  the  Union.  And  whose  spirit  was  that  but  Webster's  ? 
How  gloriously  it  made  the  people  of  the  North  spring  to 
arms  !  Yes,  the  great  soul  of  Daniel  Webster  breathing  and 
beating  in  them,  —  this  it  was  that  set  them  astir,  impelling 
them  to  the  front,  and  holding  them  to  the  work,  till  Seces- 

25  sion  was  finally  overwhelmed  beneath  a  wide-sweeping  tor- 
rent of  blood  and  fire  !  + 

Now,  that  war  cost  the  North  not  less  than  eight  hundred 
thousand  lives  and  six  thousand  millions  of  money  !  Per- 
haps the  demoralization  engendered  out  of  it  should  be  rated 

30  as  a  still  greater  cost :  the  nation  has  not  got  over  it  yet, 
nor  will  it  for  fifty  years  to  come.  But,  in  the  conflict  which 
itself  had  provoked,  slavery  fell,  and    great   was  the   fall 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  157 

thereof.  Gloria  in  excehis  for  that  fall !  For  slavery  was 
a  loathsome  and  execrable  old  nuisance  ;  I  thought  so  then, 
I  think  so  now  :  and  the  only  good  thing  it  could  possibly 
do  was  to  die.  I  admit,  indeed,  that  the  purchase  was 
worth  the  cost ;  but  it  was  a  dreadful,  dreadful  price  to  5 
pay,  even  for  so  auspicious  a  riddance  as  that ! 

Of  course,  if  the  extremists,  those  who  got  up  the  war,  had 
foreseen  what  was  coming,  the  thing  would  not  have  come ; 
at  least  it  would  not  have  come  when  it  did.  Yet,  surely,  it 
was  bound  to  come,  sooner  or  later;  it  was  only  a  question  10 
of  time.  But,  thanks  to  Daniel  Webster,  the  war  was  ad- 
journed till,  as  the  event  proved,  the  nation  was  duly  pre- 
pared for  it,  though  not  so  prepared  but  that  it  was  deeply 
punished  in  and  by  it.  Nor  did  it  escape  his  "  large  dis- 
course "  that  the  crisis,  after  all,  was  but  postponed  :  I  have  15 
been  told  that  in  his  private  intercourse  he  expressed  it  as 
his  settled  conviction  that  such  was  the  case.  But,  surely, 
Providence  had  a  controlling  hand  in  the  whole  matter  ;  and 
Providence  knows  its  time,  as  it  also  knows  how  to  make  a 
good  use  of  the  blunders  of  men.  Now,  those  who  had  no  20 
foresight  of  what  was  coming  may  stand  acquitted  of  crime, 
though  not  of  blundering:  yet  I  cannot  say  this  for  their 
huge  unbenevolence  towards  their  best  friend  :  ignorance 
may  be  pardoned,  malice  may  not.  But,  as  Webster  had  a 
forecast  of  the  whole,  he  was  bound  on  every  principle  of  25 
humanity  and  of  manhood  to  act  as  he  did  :  nay,  he  would 
have  been  utterly  inexcusable  both  as  a  statesman  and  as  a 
man,  if  he  had  acted  otherwise. 

But  why  was  it  that  slavery  had  to  fall  ?    Here  I  may  claim 
some  right  to  know  what  I  am  saying,  because  I  had  ocular  30 
and  auricular  proof  on  the  subject.    For  I  was  myself  in  the 
army  three  years,  serving  the  cause  with  such  poor  abilities 


158  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

as  I  had.  And  I  was  perfectly  satisfied  from  the  outset,  that 
either  slavery  or  the  nation  was  bound  to  perish  :  I  felt  just 
as  sure  of  it  then  as  I  do  now.  In  the  summer  of  1861,  I 
was  living  in  the  city  of  New  York.  Seeing  in  the  papers 
5  one  morning  a  notice  of  a  meeting  to  be  held  in  Hope 
Chapel  for  the  purpose  of  helping  on  the  war,  I  took  a  notion 
to  go  to  it.  Being  there,  I  felt  moved  to  make  a  speech. 
Having  gained  the  ear  of  the  audience,  almost  before  I  knew 
what  I  was  saying,  these  words  popped  out  of  my  mouth  : 

10  "  Slavery  has  now  forced  itself  into  a  mortal  duel  with  Uncle 
Sam,  and  one  of  them  has  got  to  die  ;  and,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  it  shall  not  be  Uncle  Sam."  At  first,  I  was 
startled  with  the  apprehension  of  having  gone  too  far  ;  but, 
the  audience  raising  a  shout  of  applause,  I  saw  that  things 

1 5  were  all  right,  and  so  went  on. 

Carrying,  as  I  did,  this  deep-seated  conviction  into  the 
field,  I  longed,  intensely  longed,  to  have  slavery  knocked  on 
the  head.  So  I  wanted  to  blaze  away  against  it  in  my  talks 
to  the  soldiers.    Once  or  twice  I  did  so,  to  some  extent. 

20  My  official  superiors  took  me  to  task  for  this  ;  telling  me 
that  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  slavery  ;  that  they  were 
there  to  sustain  the  government ;  and  that  they  could  not 
have  discord  and  dissension  sown  among  the  soldiers  by  talks 
on  that  subject.    In  short,  they  gave  me  a  peremptory  order 

25  to  let  it  alone.  Of  course  I  obeyed,  though  it  went  some- 
what against  the  grain  with  me.  And  the  order  was  un- 
doubtedly right.  I  was  serving  in  the  Department  of  the 
South  ;  and  my  heart  fairly  leaped  for  joy  when  General 
Hunter  issued  his  order  or  proclamation  for  emancipating 

30  the  slaves  in  that  Department.  Yet  I  was  not  without  serious 
misgivings  ;  for  it  rather  seemed  to  me  that  such  a  measure 
as  that  ought  to  proceed  from  no  one  but  the  Commander-in- 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  159 

Chief  of  the  armies  and  navies  of  the  United  States.  You 
are  probably  aware  that,  when  the  order  became  known 
to  President  Lincoln,  he  forthwith  overruled  and  counter- 
manded it.  This  I  was  then  sorry  for.  But,  you  see,  I  was  in 
too  great  a  hurry.  Herein  I  was  not  so  wise,  not  quite  so  wise,  5 
as  our  great  and  good  and  divinely  patient  President.  He, 
with  his  patience  long  and  sorely  tried  by  unwise  and  impa- 
tient men  like  myself,  —  tried  quite  as  much  perhaps  in  that 
way  as  in  any  other,  —  held  back,  and  waited  for  the  "  riping 
of  the  time."  In  calling  them  unwise  and  impatient  men  10 
like  myself,  I  am  far  from  meaning  to  compare  my  insignifi- 
cant self  generally  with  them  ;  for  they  were,  many  of  them, 
wise  and  good  men  in  their  degree  ;  but,  I  suspect,  not 
quite  so  wise  and  patient  as  our  good  father  Abraham.  But, 
when  our  President  saw,  —  for  he  had  a  strong,  clear  head  15 
on  his  shoulders  as  well  as  a  warm  and  tender  heart  in  his 
bosom,  —  when  he  saw  that  the  time  had  come,  he  just 
hurled  his  thunderbolt,  and  knocked  slavery  into  the  place 
where  it  should  be.  By  that  time  the  soldiers  had  all  been 
taught  by  the  discipline  and  logic  of  events,  that  they  had  20 
got  to  choose  between  the  death  of  slavery  and  the  death  of 
the  nation  ;  that  both  of  these  could  not  possibly  survive  the 
struggle  :  and,  when  it  came  to  that,  they  of  course  chose 
as  Webster  had  taught  and  inspired  them  to  choose. 

So  then,  while  others  had  been  pouring  out,  in  language  25 
hissing  hot,  their  intense  hatred  of  slavery,  and  even  of  the 
Union  for  slavery's  sake,  Webster  had  been  pouring  out  his 
irresistible  argument  and  eloquence  in  behalf  of  the  Union 
which  he  loved  ;  and  the  love  kindled  by  that  eloquence  and 
upheld  by  that  argument, — this  it  was  that  really  did  the  30 
work.  For,  in  truth,  it  so  happened  at  that  time,  that  the 
best  and  surest  way  to  crush  slavery  was  by  strengthening 


160  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

the  Union,  —  by  arming  Uncle  Sam  with  a  hand  so  big  and 
so  powerful,  that  he  could  just  seize  the  bull  of  disunion  by 
the  horns,  and  wring  the  bull's  head  off.  And  so,  when  the 
people,  both  those  at  home  and  those  in  the  field,  became 
5  thoroughly  convinced,  as  in  time  they  did,  that  either  slavery 
or  Uncle  Sam  had  got  to  die,  they  said,  Uncle  Sam  shall  not 
die,  and  slavery  shall  ;  and  the  spirit  which  thus  spoke  had 
been  kindled  within  them  by  the  man  who  was  born  up  in 
New  Hampshire  one  hundred  years  ago  this  day.    Webster, 

10  to  be  sure,  did  not  intend  the  destruction  of  slavery;  that 
was  nowise  the  motive  of  his  labors  :  but  he  did  intend 
that  the  Union  should  be  kept  alive,  and  all  his  mighty  ener- 
gies were  directed  to  this  end  ;  such  being,  as  I  must  think, 
the  special  purpose  for  which  he  was  providentially  endowed, 

15  and  given  to  the  American  people.  And  so  the  extremists, 
North  and  South,  —  they  it  was  who,  between  them,  got  up 
our  Civil  War  ;  Webster  had  no  hand  in  that ;  but  he  it  was 
who,  in  effect,  fought  the  battles  and  gained  the  victories 
of  the  Union  :   for,  as  the  late  Judge  Redfield,  of  this  city, 

20  once  said  to  me,  "  the  war  was  all  fought  out  on  Daniel 
Webster's  lines." 

Now,  which  do  you  suppose  did  the  most  towards  the 
final  result,  hatred  of  slavery,  or  love  of  the  Union  ?  Which 
was  the  stronger  principle  here,  hatred  of  that  which  was 

25  bad,  or  love  of  that  which  was  good?  And  who  did  the 
most  for  the  final  triumph  of  the  very  cause  which  the  Abo- 
litionists had  so  much  at  heart,  they  themselves,  or  the  man 
whom  they  so  mercilessly  calumniated?  They  endeavored 
with  all  their  might  to  break  him  down  ;  and  he  just  saved 

30  them  from  the  crime,  and  the  infamy,  of  breaking  up  our 
national  Union  :  for  how  would  they  have  stood  before  the 
world  at  this  day,  if  that  Union  had  perished  by  the  fire 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  l6l 

which  they  were  kindling?  Why,  they  would  have  been  an 
object  of  universal  execration  !  a  mark  of  abhorrence  to 
coming  time,  as  the  philanthropic  incendiaries  who  had  de- 
stroyed the  last  hope  of  republican  institutions  upon  earth ! 

This,  then,  is  the  revenge  that  Webster  has  taken  upon    5 
them,  —  he  served  their  own  cause  far  better  than  they  did 
themselves.    While  they  were  warring  against  him,  he  was 
preparing  victory  for  them.    He  did  not  know  this,  they  did 
not  know  it ;  but  he  was  doing  right,  they  were  doing  wrong  : 
he  was  acting  from  love,  they  were  acting  from  hate  :  he  was  10 
trying  to  make  peace,  they  were  trying  to  break  peace,  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South:  they,  to  be  sure,  succeeded 
for  a  time,  but  his  success  was  the  more  lasting :  and  my 
copy  of  the  Bible  the  seventh  of  the  Divine  Beatitudes  does 
not  read  "Blessed  are  the  pea.ce-dreakers,"  nor  do  I  think  15 
it  ought  to  read  so.    And  do  you  not  believe,  —  do  you  not 
know,  —  that  Daniel  Webster  really  did  more  towards  smash- 
ing up  slavery  than  all  the  Abolitionists  in  the  country  put 
together?    It  need  not  be  said  that  slavery  was  killed  ;  that 
is  pretty  evident :  but  I  think  it  may  need  to  be  said,  at  all  20 
events  it  shall  be  said,  that  Daniel  Webster  was  the  man  who 
killed  it ;  not,  I  repeat,  from  hatred  of  slavery,  but  from  love 
of  the  Union  :  yes,  he,  he  was  the  Hercules  who  slew  the 
monster,  and  saved  the  lady  !    And  may  we  not  reasonably 
hope  that  the  day  is  not  far  distant,  when  a  just  sense  of  his  25 
vast  service  in  this  behalf  shall  purge  the  moral  and  social 
atmosphere  of  Boston,  and  of  Massachusetts,  of  the  dread- 
ful venom  and  virulence  breathed  into  it  more  than  thirty 
years  ago? 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  great  cause  have  we  to  thank  God  30 
for  the  gift  of  Daniel  Webster  to  this  nation,  and  to  bless  the 


162  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

day  when  he  was  born.  I  think,  withal,  we  may  rest  assured 
that  he  still  lives,  and  is  not  going  to  die.  His  memory  will 
out-tongue  and  live  down  whatever  has  hitherto  tried,  or  may 
hereafter  try,  to  choke  it  off  ;  his  name  will  still  be  fresh  and 
5  fragrant  in  the  world's  regard,  when  all  the  lingual  rancors 
which  so  embittered  his  closing  years  shall  have  died  away  in 
blank  forgetfulness.+  He  had  "  a  voice  whose  sound  was  like 
the  sea  "  ;  and  that  voice  will  keep  swelling  up  and  rolling 
on,  strong,  clear,  and  sweet,  ages  after  the  unbenevolent 

10  shriekings  of  his  time,  and  of  our  time,  shall  have  gone  silent 
forever,  Nature's  air  refusing  to  propagate  them ;  a  treasure 
to  be  cherished  with  reverential  affection  so  long  as  the 
American  name  shall  have  a  place  in  the  reverence  and  affec- 
tion of  mankind.    For,  indeed,  it  is  already  coming  to  be 

15  seen,  as  it  has  never  been  seen  before,  that  his  broad,  wise 
statesmanship  is  to  be  the  ample  and  refreshing  shade,  his 
character  the  bright  and  breezy  presence,  in  which  all  the 
members  of  this  great  and  illustrious  Republic  may  meet  and 
sit  down  and  feast  together. 


APPENDIX 

I 

The  speech  made  by  Governor  Long,  at  the  dinner  given 
by  the  Marshfield  Club  in  commemoration  of  Webster's 
hundredth  birthday,  is  so  manly,  so  able,  so  workmanlike, 
and  so  eloquent  in  itself,  therewithal  so  just  to  the  subject, 
and  so  honorable  to  the  speaker,  that  I  cannot  well  resist  5 
the  temptation  to  transcribe  it  here,  in  a  place  more  con- 
venient for  preservation  and  reference  than  in  the  news- 
paper columns  where  it  appeared  : 

It  is  but  a  poor  tribute  that  even  the  most  eloquent  voice, 
least  of  all  mine,  can  pay  for  Massachusetts  to  the  memory  of  10 
her  greatest  statesman,  her  mightiest  intellect,  and  her  most 
powerful  orator.  Among  her  sons  he  towers  like  the  lonely 
and  massive  shaft  on  Bunker  Hill,  upon  the  base  and  the  crest 
of  which  his  name  is  emblazoned  clearer  than  if  chiseled 
deep  in  its  granite  cubes.  For  years  he  was  her  synonym.  15 
Among  the  States  he  sustained  her  at  that  proud  height,  which 
Winthrop  and  Samuel  Adams  gave  her  in  the  colonial  and  pro- 
vincial days.  With  what  matchless  grandeur  he  defended  her  ! 
With  what  overwhelming  power  he  impressed  her  convictions 
upon  the  national  life  !  God  seems  to  appoint  men  to  special  20 
work,  and,  that  done,  the  very  effort  of  its  achievement 
exhausts  them,  and  they  rise  not  again  to  the  summit  of  their 
meridian.  So  it  was  with  Webster.  He  knows  little  even  of 
written  constitutions  and  frames  of  government  who  does  not 
know  that  they  exist  almost  less  in  the  letter  than  in  the  inter-  25 
pretation  and  construction  of  the  letter.  In  this  light  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
as  it  existed  when  it  carried  our  country  through  the  greatest 
peril  that  ever  tested  it,  was  the  crystallization  of  the  mind 
of  Webster  as  well  as  of  its  original  framers.    It  came  from  30 

163 


164  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

them,  and  was  only  accepted  by  some  of  our  own,  as  a  com- 
pact of  States,  sovereign  in  all  but  certain  enumerated  powers 
delegated  to  a  central  government.  He  made  it  the  crucible 
of  a  welded  Union,  —  the  charter  of  one  great  country,  the 
5  United  States  of  America.  He  made  the  States  a  Nation  and 
infolded  them  in  its  single  banner.  It  was  the  overwhelming 
logic  of  his  discussion,  the  household  familiarity  of  his  simple 
but  irresistible  statement,  that  gave  us  munition  to  fight  the 
war  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union  and  the  abolition  of 

10  slavery.  It  was  his  eloquence,  clear  as  crystal,  and  precipitat- 
ing itself  in  the  schoolbooks  and  literature  of  a  people,  which 
had  trained  up  the  generation  of  twenty  years  ago  to  regard 
this  Nation  as  one,  to  love  its  flag  with  a  patriotism  that  knew 
no  faction  or  section,  to  be  loyal  to  the  whole  country,  and  to 

15  find  in  its  Constitution  power  to  suppress  any  hand  or  combi- 
nation raised  against  it.  The  great  rebellion  of  1861  went 
down  hardly  more  before  the  cannon  of  Grant  and  Farragut 
than  the  thunder  of  Webster's  reply  to  Hayne.  He  knew  not 
the  extent  of  his  own  achievement.    His  greatest  failure  was, 

20  that  he  rose  not  to  the  height  and  actual  stroke  of  his  own 
resistless  argument,  and  that  he  lacked  the  sublime  inspira- 
tion, the  disentanglement  and  the  courage,  to  let  the  giant  he 
had  created  go  upon  his  errand,  first  of  force,  and  then, 
through  that,  of  surer  peace.    He  had  put  the  work  and  the 

25  genius  of  more  than  an  ordinary  lifetime  of  service  into  the 
arching  and  knitting  of  the  Union,  and  this  he  could  not  bear 
to  put  to  the  final  test :  his  great  heart  was  sincere  in  the 
prayer  that  his  eyes  might  not  behold  the  earthquake  that 
would  shake  it  to  those  foundations  which,  though  he  knew  it 

30  not,  he  had  made  so  strong  that  a  succeeding  generation  saw 
them  stand  the  shock  as  the  oak  withstands  the  storm.  Men 
are  not  gods,  and  it  needed  in  him  that  he  should  rise  to  a 
moral  sublimity  and  daring  as  lofty  as  the  intellectual  heights 
above  which  he  soared  with  unequaled  strength.    So  had  he 

35  been  godlike. 

A  great  man  touches  the  heart  of  the  people  as  well  as 
their  intelligence.  They  not  only  admire,  they  also  love  him. 
It  sometimes  seems  as  if  they  sought  in  him  some  weakness  of 
our  common  human  nature,  that  they  may  chide  him  for  it,  for- 

40  give  it,  and  so  endear  him  to  themselves  the  more.  Massachu- 
setts had  her  friction  with  the  younger  Adams  only  to  lay  him 
away  with  profounder  honor,  and  to  remember  him  devotedly 


APPENDIX  165 

as  the  defender  of  the  right  of  petition  and  "  the  old  man  elo- 
quent." She  forgave  the  overweening  conceit  of  Sumner ;  she 
revoked  her  unjust  censure  of  him,  and  now  points  her  youth 
to  him  in  his  high  niche  as  the  unsullied  patriot,  without  fear 
and  without  reproach,  who  stood  and  spoke  for  equal  rights,  5 
and  whose  last  great  service  was  to  demand  and  enforce  his 
country's  just  claims  against  the  dishonorable  trespass  of  the 
cruisers  of  that  England  he  had  so  much  admired.  Massachu- 
setts smote,  too,  and  broke  the  heart  of  Webster,  her  idol, 
and  then  broke  her  own  above  his  grave,  and  to-day  writes  his  10 
name  highest  upon  her  roll  of  statesmen.  It  seems  disjointed 
to  say  that,  with  such  might  as  his,  the  impression  that  comes 
from  his  face  upon  the  wall,  as. from  his  silhouette  upon  the 
background  of  our  history,  is  that  of  sadness,  —  the  sadness  of 
the  great  deep  eyes,  the  sadness  of  the  lonely  shore  he  loved,  15 
and  by  which  he  sleeps.  The  story  of  Webster  from  the 
beginning  is  the  very  pathos  of  romance.  A  minor  chord  runs 
through  it  like  the  tenderest  note  in  a  song.  What  eloquence 
of  tears  is  in  that  narrative,  which  reveals  in  this  giant  of 
intellectual  strength  the  heart,  the  single,  loving  heart  of  a  20 
child,  and  in  which  he  describes  the  winter  sleigh  ride  up  the 
New  Hampshire  hills  when  his  father  told  him  that,  at  what- 
ever cost,  he  should  have  a  college  education,  and  he,  too  full 
to  speak,  while  a  warm  glow  ran  all  over  him,  laid  his  head 
upon  his  father's  shoulder  and  wept !  25 

The  greatness  of  Webster  and  his  title  to  enduring  grati- 
tude have  two  illustrations.  He  taught  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  in  the  simplicity  of  common  understanding,  the 
principles  of  the  Constitution  and  government  of  the  country, 
and  he  wrought  for  them,  in  a  style  of  matchless  strength  and  30 
beauty,  the  literature  of  statesmanship.  From  his  lips  flowed 
the  discussion  of  constitutional  law,  of  economic  philosophy, 
of  finance,  of  international  right,  of  national  grandeur,  and  of 
the  whole  range  of  high  public  themes,  so  clear  and  judicial 
that  it  was  no  longer  discussion,  but  judgment.  To-day,  and  35 
so  it  will  be  while  the  Republic  endures,  the  student  and  the 
legislator  turn  to  the  full  fountain  of  his  statement  for  the 
enunciation  of  these  principles.  What  other  authority  is 
quoted  or  holds  even  the  second  or  third  place  ?  Even  his 
words  have  imbedded  themselves  in  the  common  phraseology,  40 
and  come  to  the  tongue  like  passages  from  the  psalms  or  the 
poets.     I  do  not  know  that  a  sentence  or  a  word  of  Sumner's 


166  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

repeats  itself  in  our  everyday  parlance.  The  exquisite  periods 
of  Everett  are  recalled  like  the  consummate  work  of  some 
master  of  music,  but  no  note  or  refrain  sings  itself  over  and 
over  again  to  our  ears.  The  brilliant  eloquence  of  Choate  is 
5  like  the  flash  of  a  bursting  rocket,  lingering  upon  the  retina 
indeed  after  it  has  faded  from  the  wings  of  the  night,  but  as 
elusive  of  our  grasp  as  spray-drops  that  glisten  in  the  sun. 
The  fiery  enthusiasm  of  Andrew  did,  indeed,  burn  some  of  his 
heart  beats  forever  into  the  sentiment  of  Massachusetts  ;  but 

10  Webster  made  his  language  the  very  household  words  of  a 
nation.  They  are  the  library  of  a  people.  They  inspired  and 
still  inspire  patriotism.  They  taught  and  still  teach  loyalty. 
They  are  the  schoolbook  of  the  citizen.  They  are  the 
inwrought  and   accepted   fiber  of  American  politics.     If  the 

15  temple  of  our  Republic  shall  ever  fall,  they  will  "still  live" 
above  the  ground,  like  those  great  foundation  stones  in  ancient 
ruins,  which  remain  in  lonely  grandeur,  unburied  in  the  dust 
that  springs  to  turf  over  all  else,  and  making  men  wonder 
from  what  rare  quarry  and  by  what  mighty  force  they  came. 

20  To  Webster,  almost  more  than  to  any  other  man,  —  nay,  at 
a  distance  and  in  the  generous  spirit  of  this  occasion  it  is  hard 
to  discriminate  among  the  lustrous  names  which  now  cluster 
at  the  gates  of  Heaven,  as  the  golden  bars  mass  the  West  at 
sunset,  —  yet  to  Webster  especially  of  them  all  is  it  due  that 

25  to-day,  wherever  a  son  of  the  United  States,  at  home  or 
abroad,  "beholds  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now 
known  and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  original 
luster,    not    a    stripe    erased    or    polluted,    not    a    single    star 

30  obscured,"  he  can  utter  a  prouder  boast  than  Civis  Romanus 
sum.    For  he  can  say,  I  am  an  American  citizen. 


II 

WEBSTER  AND  GIDDINGS 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Transcript :   The  Transcript  of  the 
25  th  instant  prints  a  communication  from  Mr.  F.  B.  San- 
born, of  Concord,  which  has  caused  me  not  a  little  surprise. 
35  It  contains  a  letter  from  the  Honorable  J.  R.  Giddings, 


APPENDIX  167 

formerly  a  representative  in  Congress  from  Ohio,  to  the  Rev- 
erend Theodore  Parker.    A  part  of  the  letter  is  as  follows  : 
Hall  of  Representatives,  January  29,  1853 
My  dear  Sir :   You  may  recollect  that,  early  in  the  session 
of  Congress  of  1 847-1 848,  the  absorbing  subject  of  the  presi-     5 
dential  candidates  was  much  agitated.    Mr.  Webster  had  a  few 
friends,  but  it  became  apparent  that  his  prospect  for  nomination 
was  not  good.    I  took  occasion  to  suggest  to  some  of  his  friends 
that  Mr.  Webster  might  yet  place  himself  in  a  most  enviable 
position  by  taking  ground  in  favor  of  liberty,  and  against  the  10 
encroachments  of  slavery.    I  did  this  with  the  hope  of  bringing 
him  out  on  that  subject,  as  I  knew  that  his  talents  and  influence 
would  do  much  for  the  advancement  of  our  cause.    Soon  after 
this,  at  a  party,  Mr.  Webster  informed  me  that  he  desired  to 
submit  a  question  for  my  opinion,  on  which  he  wished  me  to  be  15 
very  frank.    Accordingly,  a  few  days  afterward,  the  skeleton 
of  a  speech,  in  his  handwriting,  was  submitted  to  my  inspection. 
It  took  ground  in  favor  of    Northern  rights  and  against  the 
encroachments  of  slavery.     I   expressed  approval,  and,  for  a 
long  time,  expected  its  delivery  in  the  Senate.  20 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  letter  was  written  at  least  four 
years  after  the  session  of  Congress  to  which  it  refers.  Surely 
Mr.  Giddings  must  have  overlooked  or  forgotten  two  very 
remarkable  speeches  made  by  Webster:  one  on  the  1st  of 
March,  1847,  and  entitled  The  Mexican  War ;  the  other  on  25 
the  23d  of  March,  1848,  and  entitled  Objects  of  the  Mexican 
War.  Both  speeches  are  given  in  the  fifth  volume  of 
Webster's  Works,  Little  &  Brown's  edition,  185 1.  I  hope 
you  will  not  find  it  inconvenient  to  print  a  few  extracts 
from  those  speeches,  in  justice  to  all  the  parties  concerned.  3° 
In  the  first  of  them  we  have  the  following  : 

At  present,  I  should  hardly  have  risen  but  to  lay  before  the 
Senate  the  resolutions  of  the  House  of  Representatives  of  Massa- 
chusetts, adopted  on  Thursday  last.    We  have  a  great  deal  of 
commentary  and  criticism  on  State  resolutions  brought  here.  35 
Those  of   Michigan  particularly  have  been  very  sharply  and 


i68  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

narrowly  looked  into,  to  see  whether  they  really  mean  what  they 
seem  to  mean.  These  resolutions  of  Massachusetts,  I  hope,  are 
sufficiently  distinct  and  decided.  They  admit  of  neither  doubt 
nor  cavil,  even  if  doubt  or  cavil  were  permissible  in  such  a 
5  case. 

What  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts  thinks,  it  has  said, 
and  said  plainly  and  directly.  I  have  not,  before  any  tribunal, 
tried  my  ingenuity  at  what  the  lawyers  call  a  special  demurrer 
for  many  years ;  and  I  never  tried  it  here  in  the  Senate.    In 

10  the  business  of  legislation,  and  especially  in  considering  State 
resolutions  and  the  proceedings  of  public  assemblies,  it  is  our 
duty,  of  course,  to  understand  everything  according  to  the  com- 
mon meaning  of  the  words  used.  Of  all  occasions,  these  are  the 
last  in  which  one  should  stick  in  the  bark,  or  seek  for  loopholes 

15  or  means  of  escape  ;  or,  in  the  language  of  an  eminent  judge  of 
former  times,  "  hitch  and  hang  on  pins  and  particles."  We  must 
take  the  substance  fairly,  and  as  it  is,  and  not  hesitate  about 
forms  and  phrases. 

We  are  in  the  midst  of  a  war,  not  waged  at  home  in  defense 

20  of  our  soil,  but  waged  a  thousand  miles  off,  and  in  the  heart  of 
the  territories  of  another  Government.  It  is  not  denied  that 
this  war  is  now  prosecuted  for  the  acquisition  of  territory ;  at 
least,  if  any  deny  it,  others  admit  it,  and  all  know  it  to  be  true. 
Seven  or  eight  of  the  free  States,  comprising  some  of  the  largest, 

25  have  remonstrated  against  the  prosecution  of  the  war  for  such 
a  purpose,  in  language  suited  to  their  meaning.  These  remon- 
strances come  here  with  the  distinct  and  precise  object  of  dis- 
suading us  from  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war  for  the 
acquisition  of  territory  by  conquest.    Before  territory  is  actually 

30  obtained,  and  its  future  character  fixed,  they  beseech  us  to  give 
up  an  object  so  full  of  danger.  One  and  all,  they  protest  against 
the  extension  of  slave  territory ;  one  and  all,  they  regard  it  as 
the  solemn  duty  of  the  Representatives  of  the  free  States  to  take 
security,  in  advance,  that  no  more  slave  States  shall  be  added 

35  to  the  Union.  They  demand  of  us  this  pledge,  this  assurance, 
before  the  purchase  money  is  paid,  or  the  bargain  concluded. 

Then,  after  reading  the  Massachusetts  resolutions,  Webster 
went  on  as  follows  : 

The  House  of  Representatives  of  Massachusetts  is,  I  believe, 

40  the  most  numerous  legislative  body  in  the  country.    On  this 

occasion  it  was  not  full  ;  but  among  those  present  there  was  an 


APPENDIX  169 

entire  unanimity.  For  the  resolutions  there  were  two  hundred 
and  thirty  votes  ;  against  them,  none.  Not  one  man  stood  up 
to  justify  the  war  upon  such  grounds  as  those  upon  which  it 
has  been,  from  day  to  day,  defended  here.  Massachusetts, 
without  one  dissenting  voice,  and  I  thank  her  for  it,  and  am  5 
proud  of  her  for  it,  has  denounced  the  whole  object  for  which 
our  armies  are  now  traversing  the  plains  of  Mexico,  or  about  to 
plunge  into  the  pestilence  of  her  coasts.  The  people  of  Massa- 
chusetts are  as  unanimous  as  the  members  of  her  legislature,  and 
so  are  her  Representatives  here.  I  have  heard  no  man  in  the  State,  10 
in  public  or  in  private  life,  express  a  different  opinion.  If  anything 
is  certain,  it  is  certain  that  the  sentiment  of  the  whole  North  is 
utterly  opposed  to  the  acquisition  of  territory,  to  be  formed  into 
slaveholding  States,  and,  as  such,  admitted  into  the  Union. 

But  here,  Sir,  I  cannot  but  pause.  I  am  arrested  by  occur-  15 
rences  of  this  night,  which,  I  confess,  fill  me  with  alarm.  They 
are  ominous,  portentous.  Votes  which  have  just  been  passed 
by  majorities  here  cannot  fail  to  awaken  public  attention.  Every 
patriotic  American,  every  man  who  wishes  to  preserve  the  Con- 
stitution, ought  to  ponder  them  well.  ...  20 

Mr.  President,  I  arraign  no  men  and  no  parties.  I  take  no 
judgment  into  my  own  hands.  But  I  present  this  simple  state- 
ment of  facts  and  consequences  to  the  country,  and  ask  for  it, 
humbly  but  most  earnestly,  the  serious  consideration  of  the 
people.  Shall  we  prosecute  this  war  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  25 
on  a  controversy  which  is  likely  to  shake  the  Government  to  its 
center?  .  .  . 

Within  a  year  or  two  after  Texas  had  achieved  her  independ- 
ence, there  were  those  who  already  spoke  of  its  annexation  to 
the  United  States.  Against  that  project  I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty  30 
to  take  an  early  and  a  decided  course.  Having  occasion  to 
address  political  friends  in  the  City  of  New  York  in  March, 
1837,  I  expressed  my  sentiments  as  fully  and  as  strongly  as  I 
could.  From  those  opinions  I  have  never  swerved.  From  the 
first  I  saw  nothing  but  danger  to  arise  to  the  country  from  such  35 
annexation.  .  .  . 

Sir,  I  fear  we  are  not  yet  arrived  at  the  beginning  of  the 
end.  I  pretend  to  see  but  little  into  the  future,  and  that  little 
affords  no  gratification.  All  I  can  scan  is  contention,  strife,  and 
agitation.  Before  we  obtain  a  perfect  right  to  conquered  terri-  40 
tory,  there  must  be  a  cession.  A  cession  can  only  be  made  by 
treaty.    Will  the  North  consent  to  a  treaty  bringing  in  territory 


170  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

subject  to  slavery  ?  Will  the  South  consent  to  a  treaty  bring- 
ing in  territory  from  which  slavery  is  excluded  ?  Sir,  the  future 
is  full  of  difficulties  and  full  of  dangers.  We  are  suffering  to 
pass  the  golden  opportunity  for  securing  harmony  and  the  sta- 
5  bility  of  the  Constitution.  We  appear  to  me  to  be  rushing  upon 
perils  headlong,  and  with  our  eyes  wide  open.  But  I  put  my  trust 
in  Providence,  and  in  that  good  sense  and  patriotism  of  the 
people  which  will  yet,  I  hope,  be  awakened  before  it  is  too  late. 

Still  more  emphatic,  if  possible,  are  the  following  passages 

10  from  the  speech  made  a  little  more  than  a  year  later : 

On  Friday  a  bill  passed  the  Senate  for  raising  ten  regiments 
of  new  troops  for  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war  against 
Mexico  ;  and  we  have  been  informed  that  that  measure  is  shortly 
to  be  followed,  in  this  branch  of  the  legislature,  by  a  bill  to  raise 

15  twenty  regiments  of  volunteers  for  the  same  service.  I  was 
desirous  of  expressing  my  opinions  against  the  object  of  these 
bills,  against  the  supposed  necessity  which  leads  to  their  enact- 
ment, and  against  the  general  policy  which  they  are  apparently 
designed  to  promote.    Circumstances  personal  to  myself,  but 

20  beyond  my  control,  compelled  me  to  forego,  on  that  day,  the 
execution  of  that  design.  .  .  . 

This  war  was  waged  for  the  object  of  creating  new  States, 
on  the  southern  border  of  the  United  States,  out  of  Mexican 
territory,  and  with  such  population  as  could  be  found  resident 

25  thereupon.  I  have  opposed  this  object.  I  am  against  all  acces- 
sions of  territory  to  form  new  States.  And  this  is  no  matter  of 
sentimentality,  which  I  am  to  parade  before  mass  meetings  or 
before  any  constituents  at  home.  It  is  not  a  matter  with  me 
of  declamation,  or  of  regret,  or  of  expressed  repugnance.    It  is 

30  a  matter  of  firm,  unchangeable  purpose.  I  yield  nothing  to  the 
force  of  circumstances  that  have  occurred,  or  that  I  can  consider 
as  likely  to  occur.  I  therefore  say,  Sir,  that,  if  I  were  asked 
to-day  whether,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  I  would  take  a  treaty  for 
adding  two  new  States  to  the  Union  on  our  southern  border,  I 

35  would  say  No  /  distinctly,  No !  And  I  wish  every  man  in  the 
United  States  to  understand  that  to  be  my  judgment  and  my 
purpose.  .  .  . 

Just  before  the  commencement  of  the  present  administration, 
the   resolutions  for  the  annexation  of  Texas  were  passed  in 

40  Congress.  Texas  complied  with  the  provisions  of  those  resolu- 
tions, and  was  here,  or  the  case  was  here,  on  the  2 2d  day  of 


APPENDIX  171 

December,  1845,  f°r  her  ^na'  admission  into  the  Union  as  one 
of  the  States.  I  took  occasion  then  to  say  that  I  thought  there 
must  be  some  limit  to  the  extent  of  our  territories,  and  that  I 
wished  this  country  should  exhibit  to  the  world  the  example 
of  a  powerful  republic,  without  greediness  or  hunger  of  empire.  5 
And  I  added  that,  while  I  held  with  as  much  faithfulness  as  any 
citizen  of  the  country  to  all  the  original  arrangements  and  com- 
promises of  the  Constitution  under  which  we  live,  I  never  could, 
and  I  never  should,  bring  myself  to  be  in  favor  of  the  admission 
of  any  States  into  the  Union  as  slaveholding  States.  ...  10 

If  you  bring  in  new  States,  any  State  that  comes  in  must 
have  two  Senators.  She  may  come  in  with  fifty  or  sixty  thou- 
sand people,  or  more.  You  may  have  from  a  particular  State 
more  Senators  than  you  have  Representatives.  Can  anything 
occur  to  disfigure  and  derange  the  form  of  government  under  15 
which  we  live  more  signally  than  that  ?  The  Senate,  augmented 
by  these  new  Senators  coming  from  States  where  there  are  few 
people,  becomes  an  odious  oligarchy.  It  holds  power  without 
any  adequate  constituency.  .  .  . 

Sir,  I  hardly  dare  trust  myself.  I  don't  know  but  that  I  may  20 
be  under  some  delusion.  It  may  be  the  weakness  of  my  eyes 
that  forms  this  monstrous  apparition.  But,  if  I  may  trust  myself, 
if  I  can  persuade  myself  that  I  am  in  my  right  mind,  then  it 
does  appear  to  me  that  we  in  this  Senate  have  been  and  are 
acting,  and  are  likely  to  be  acting  hereafter,  and  immediately,  25 
a  part  which  will  form  the  most  remarkable  epoch  in  the  history 
of  our  country.  I  hold  it  to  be  enormous,  flagrant,  an  outrage 
upon  all  the  principles  of  popular  republican  government,  and 
on  the  elementary  provisions  of  the  Constitution  under  which 
we  live,  and  which  we  have  sworn  to  support.  ...  30 

I  think  I  see  a  course  adopted  which  is  likely  to  turn  the 
Constitution  of  the  land  into  a  deformed  monster,  into  a  curse 
rather  than  a  blessing ;  in  fact,  a  frame  of  an  unequal  govern- 
ment, not  founded  on  popular  representation,  not  founded  on 
equality,  but  on  the  grossest  inequality ;  and  I  think  that  this  35 
process  will  go  on,  or  that  there  is  danger  that  it  will  go  on, 
until  this  Union  shall  fall  to  pieces.  I  resist  it,  to-day  and  always. 
Whoever  falters  or  whoever  flies,  I  continue  the  contest ! 

I  know,  Sir,  that  all  the  portents  are  discouraging.    Would 
to  God  I  could  auspicate  good  influences !  Would  to  God  that  40 
those  who  think  with  me,  and  myself,  could  hope  for  stronger 
support  !    Would  that  we  could  stand  where  we  desire  to  stand  ! 


172  HUDSON'S  ESSAYS 

I  see  the  signs  are  sinister.  But  with  few,  or  alone,  my  position 
is  fixed.  If  there  were  time  I  would  gladly  awaken  the  country. 
I  believe  the  country  might  be  awakened,  although  it  may  be 
too  late.  For  myself,  supported  or  unsupported,  by  the  bless- 
5  ing  of  God,  I  shall  do  my  duty.  I  see  well  enough  all  the 
adverse  indications.  But  I  am  sustained  by  a  deep  and  con- 
scientious sense  of  duty ;  and,  while  supported  by  that  feeling, 
and  while  such  great  interests  are  at  stake,  I  defy  auguries, 
and  ask  no  omen  but  my  country's  cause  ! 

10  Mr.  Sanborn  thinks,  as  he  well  may,  that  the  alleged  dis- 
honest change  in  Webster's  course,  about  which  so  much 
has  been  said,  was  not  connected  with  the  speech  he  made 
on  the  7th  of  March,  1850,  but  with  a  speech  which  he  did 
not  make  sometime  in   1847  or    1848.    The  letter  which 

15  Mr.  Sanborn  gives,  from  Mr.  Sumner  to  Mr.  Parker,  is  with- 
out date  ;  but  that  letter  evidently  refers  also  to  some  speech 
that  Webster  did  ?wt  make  against  the  Mexican  war.  A 
part  of  Mr.  Sumner's  letter  is  as  follows  :  "  At  the  Senate 
I  spoke  with  Giddings.    He  repeated  what  he  had  told  me 

20  before,  that  Webster  had  submitted  to  him  the  brief  of  a 
speech  against  the  Mexican  war,  which  he  never  delivered." 
Now,  whether  Webster  ever  delivered  the  particular  speech 
here  referred  to  may  be  a  question.  But  I  submit  that  he 
could  not  well  have  made  any  fuller  or  stronger  declarations 

25  against  admitting  any  new  slaveholding  States  and  against 
all  extension  of  slavery  than  we  have  in  the  forecited  pas- 
sages from  his  speeches  in  1847  and  1848.  Surely  these 
passages  must  be  enough  to  satisfy  any  candid  and  fair- 
minded  man,  that  Webster  did  not  then  shirk  the  honest 

30  expression  of  his  mind,  from  what  Mr.  Sumner  was  pleased 
to  call  "  the  paltriness  of  his  office-seeking." 

Probably  the  speech  which  Webster  did  not  deliver,  and 
of  which  a  "  skeleton  "  was  shown  to  Mr.  Giddings,  was  the 
one  referred  to  in  one  of  the  forecited  passages  from  the 


APPENDIX  173 

speech  of  March  23,  1848  :  "  I  was  desirous  of  expressing 
my  opinions  against  the  object  of  these  bills,"  etc.  (page 
170).  And  is  not  the  reason  which  he  there  assigns,  for  not 
having  made  that  intended  speech,  sufficient?  especially  in 
view  of  the  speech  he  made  on  the  23d  of  March,  1848?  5 
One  would  think  that  even  an  unbenevolent  mind  might  be 
satisfied  with  that  reason. 

Now,  as  nearly  all  the  South  were  at  that  time  manifestly 
bent  on  conquering  new  territory  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
extending  slavery,  Webster,  in  his  earnest  and  repeated  10 
protests  and  warnings  against  such  extension,  certainly  had 
a  very  funny  way  of  truckling,  or  of  selling  himself,  for 
Southern  votes.  And  as  the  imputing  of  bad  motives,  save 
"under  a  compelling  occasion,"  is  not  generally  regarded 
as  a  very  high  act  of  virtue,  therefore  we  are  bound  in  15 
charity  to  presume  that  Mr.  Sumner  was  strictly  compelled 
to  impute  bad  motives  in  that  particular  case.  But  it  seems 
not  unlikely  that  his  undated  letter  to  Mr.  Parker  may  have 
been  written  before  Webster's  delivery  of  the  speech  which 
he  had  been  obliged  to  postpone.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Mr.  20 
Sanborn  had  of  course  a  perfect  right  to  overlook  or  ignore 
the  facts  belonging  to  the  matter  in  hand,  and  then  speak 
just  as  if  those  facts  were  nonexistent.  For  it  is  clearly 
indispensable  that  Webster's  character  should  somehow  be 
put  to  death ;  and,  where  the  end  is  so  high  and  holy,  it  is  25 
evidently  not  worth  the  while  to  be  at  all  scrupulous  as  to 
the  means.  Finally,  in  the  case  of  Webster,  liberal  men, 
to  be  sure,  must  be  allowed  the  special  privilege  of  drawing 
upon  their  own  imagination  for  the  facts  touching  his  action, 
and  upon  their  own  generous  hearts,  or  their  "  inner  con-  30 

sciousness,"  for  his  motives. 

H.  N.  H. 
Cambridge,  January,  1882 


174  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 


III 


At  an  anniversary  meeting  of  the  Massachusetts  Anti- 
slavery  Society,  held  in  Faneuil  Hall,  on  the  23d  and  24th 
of  January,  1850,  a  series  of  resolutions  was  adopted,  one 
of  which  is  as  follows  : 

5  Resolved,  That,  admiring  the  fearlessness,  the  fidelity  to  prin- 
ciple, and  the  just  discernment  of  slavery's  true  nature,  and  its 
chief  strongholds,  manifested  by  the  great  convention  of  Ohio's 
sons  and  daughters,  assembled  in  September  last  at  Berlin,  in  that 
State,  we,  the  members  and  friends  of  the  Massachusetts  Anti- 

10  slavery  Society,  assembled  in  Faneuil  Hall,  do  cordially  respond 
to  their  words,  and  say  with  them,  With  full  confidence  in  the 
integrity  of  our  purpose  and  the  justice  of  our  cause,  we  do 
hereby  declare  ourselves  the  enemies  of  the  Constitution,  Union, 
and  Government  of  the  United  States,  and  the  friends  of  the 

15  new  Confederacy  of  States,  where  there  shall  be  no  union  with 
slaveholders,  but  where  there  shall  ever  be  free  soil,  free  labor, 
and  free  men ;  and  we  proclaim  it  as  our  unalterable  purpose 
and  determination  to  live  and  labor  for  a  dissolution  of  the 
present  Union,  by  all  lawful  and  just,  though  bloodless  and 

20  pacific,  means,  and  for  the  formation  of  a  new  republic,  that 
shall  be  such,  not  in  name  only,  but  in  full  living  reality  and 
truth.  And  we  do  hereby  invite  and  entreat  all  our  fellow-citi- 
zens and  the  friends  of  justice,  humanity,  and  true  liberty 
throughout  the  Northern  States,  to  unite  with  us  in  laboring 

25  for  so  glorious  an  object. 

Many  pages  might  easily  be  filled  with  matter  just  like 
the  above,  all  plainly  demonstrating  that  the  Abolitionists 
were  at  that  time  fierce  disunionists,  as  much  so  as  the 
"  fire-eaters"  of  the  South  ;  and  that  the  former,  in  common 
30  with  the  latter,  were  pushing  on,  with  all  their  might,  a 
scheme  of  "  peaceable  secession."  How  likely  such  seces- 
sion was  to  be  peaceable,  was  charmingly  shown  by  our  four 
smilingly  peaceful  years  of  civil  war.  The  Abolitionists 
were  then  feeding  themselves  with  eager  hopes  of  a  speedy 


APPENDIX  175 

disruption  or  "dissolution  "  of  the  Union.  Those  hopes  were 
badly  dashed  by  the  passing  of  the  Compromise  Measures, 
which  took  place  just  when  their  patriotic  and  philanthropic 
fervor  was  at  the  white  heat  of  intensity.  This  abundantly 
explains  their  amiable  and  benevolent  virulence  against  5 
Webster;  for  "  Death  loves  a  shining  mark."  To  be  sure, 
they  had  loved  Webster  mightily  when  he  opposed  Nullifi- 
cation and  Secession  in  South  Carolina ;  but  they  hated 
him  with  inexpressible  bitterness  when  he  opposed  the  same 
thing  in  Massachusetts  :  the  case  was  then  altered  com-  10 
pletely,  of  course  ;  and  so  their  milk  instantaneously  somer- 
saulted into  gall  ! 

Upon  a  fair  and  candid  view  of  the  whole  matter,  the 
upshot  seems  to  be  about  this  :  Webster  was  conscientiously 
loyal,  the  Abolitionists  were  conscientiously  disloyal,  to  the  15 
Union  and  the  Constitution  ;  he  thought  the  Union  ought 
to  be  preserved,  they  thought  it  ought  to  be  destroyed. 
Conscience  was  of  course  to  be  respected  in  them  ;  and 
why  not  as  much  so  in  him?  Wisdom,  also,  or  moderation, 
if  they  had  possessed  it,  would  have  been  worthy  of  respect  20 
in  them ;  Webster  did  possess  it,  and  in  him  it  was  worthy 
of  respect.  In  other  words,  the  Abolitionists  were  honest, 
but  they  were  fanatics  ;  Webster,  also,  was  honest,  and  was 
not  a  fanatic  :  this  was  just  the  difference  between  them. 
So,  too,  the  proslavery  fanatics  of  the  South  were  no  doubt  25 
just  as  honest  as  the  antislavery  fanatics  of  the  North  :  on 
both  sides  the  honesty  was  good  ;  the  fanaticism  on  both 
sides  was  bad. 

One  word  more.    The  Abolitionists  were  eager  and  impa- 
tient to  run  the  risk  of  setting  the  whole  Nation  on  fire,  in  30 
order  to  purge  off  a  local  and  long-standing  nuisance,  which 
it  was  indeed  unspeakably  desirable  to  get  rid  of :  Webster 


176  HUDSON'S   ESSAYS 

was  deeply  and  most  honorably  anxious  that  the  nuisance 
should  be  abated,  as  he  believed  it  might  and  would  be  in 
time,  without  wrapping  the  Nation  in  flames.  And,  when 
the  crisis  came,  the  people  of  the  North  proved  to  be  so 
5  far  in  sympathy  with  him,  that  they  preferred  an  almost 
desperate  civil  war  to  the  downfall  of  the  Union.  It  is  also 
to  be  said,  in  praise  of  the  Abolitionists  generally,  that,  when 
they  found,  as  they  did  find,  that  the  cause  of  the  Union 
might  become,  and  was  likely  to  become,  a  mighty  force 

10  for  the  destruction  of  slavery,  they  fell  in  heartily  with  the 
rest,  cast  off  their  disloyalty  to  the  Union,  turned  earnest 
patriots,  and  worked  nobly,  none  more  so,  in  support  of 
that  cause.  And  it  has  really  long  seemed  to  me  that,  now 
that  the  struggle  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  passion  has 

15  had  time  to  cool,  the  old  Abolitionists,  above  all  other 
people  in  the  land,  frankly  discarding  the  animosities  of 
thirty  years  ago,  ought  to  love  and  honor  the  name  of  Daniel 
Webster.  Surely  they  owe  him  that  reparation ;  and  they 
owe  it  even  more  to  themselves  than  to  him  !    And  I  am 

20  the  rather  moved  to  say  this,  inasmuch  as,  during  those  long- 
past  years,  I  was  myself  in  full  sympathy  with  their  hatred 
of  slavery. 


NOTES 

TJu  figures  in  heavy-faced  type  refer  to  pages  ;  those  in  plain  type,  to  the  lines 
which  are  annotated. 

PREFACE  TO  SCHOOL  HAMLET 

3  15  I  still  adhere  etc. :  This  subject  is  somewhat  unsettled  in  the 
minds  of  the  best  editors  and  teachers,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  from  his  point  of  view  Professor  Hudson  is  right.  The  revised 
Hudson  edition  retains  the  notes  at  the  foot  of  the  page.  These 
notes  are  of  three  kinds :  the  first  gives  all  the  important  textual 
variants  from  the  quartos  and  folios  ;  the  second  deals  with  obscure 
words  and  passages;  and  the  third  gives  types  of  aesthetic  inter- 
pretation from  the  best  sources. 

4  18-21  And  perhaps  the  tendency  etc. :  This  tendency  has  some- 
what increased  since  Professor  Hudson's  time,  to  the  injury  of 
English  teaching,  for  too  often  it  has  led  the  teacher  to  rely  upon 
such  notes  for  recitational  purposes  rather  than  upon  individual 
initiative  to  reach  the  message  of  the  text.  This  is  always  deaden- 
ing in  its  effect.  Mr.  Alfred  Ainger  says :  "A  student  might  obtain 
full  marks  in  such  an  exercise  without  its  proving  that  he  or  she 
was  any  better,  wiser,  or  happier  for  any  of  the  literature  of  which 
it  treats." 

5  20  Critical  Notes :  At  the  present  time,  when  cheap  reprints  of 
the  early  texts  are  accessible,  it  is  possible  and  desirable  to  lead  the 
student  in  the  secondary  schools  to  take  an  interest  in  the  Folios 
and  Quartos. 

6  10-12  I  hold  etc. :  Here  is  the  essence  of  Professor  Hudson's 
creed  as  to  the  teaching  of  English  literature.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  all  the  great  teachers  of  the  present  time  agree  with  him. 
Dr.  James  Martineau  says  :  "  To  teach  us  what  to  love  and  what 
to  hate,  whom  to  honor  and  whom  to  despise,  is  the  substance  of 
human  training ;  and  I  would  rather  have  an  hour's  communion 

177 


178  NOTES 

with  one  noble  soul  than  to  read  the  law  of  gravitation  through 
and  through." 

"  In  England,  most  especially,  and  at  its  university  centers,  this 
agitation  (of  the  place  of  literature  in  liberal  studies)  has  become 
intense  and  demonstrative,  arousing  both  scholarly  and  popular 
interest,  and  bidding  fair,  even  now,  to  revolutionize,  in  the  British 
Empire,  all  educational  conceptions  hitherto  held."  —  Professor 
T.  W.  Hunt. 

6  18-19  The  world  is  getting  etc. :  President  Woodrovv  Wilson  says 
of  such  authors  :  "  The  trouble  is  they  all  want  to  be  '  in  society,' 
overwhelmed  with  invitations  from  the  publishers,  well  known  and 
talked  about  at  the  clubs,  named  every  day  in  the  newspapers, 
photographed  for  the  news  stalls." 

7  24-28  And  the  aesthetic  criticism  etc. :  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  aesthetic  criticism  of  Professor  Hudson  has  done  more  for  the 
study  of  Shakespeare  in  this  country  than  all  the  verbal  criticism 
published.  Dr.  H.  H.  Furness  wrote  to  Professor  Hudson  in  1879: 
"  You  stand  facile  pnnceps  among  living  writers  in  the  domain  of 
Shakespeare  aesthetic  criticism.  Your  chapter  on  the  morality  of 
Shakespeare  is  the  finest  piece  of  aesthetic  criticism  that  has  been 
written  in  our  day,  or  in  any  day." 

8  20-23  We  seem  indeed  etc.  :  Speaking  of  such  a  pupil,  Mr.  Alfred 
Ainger  says:  "He  is  eager  at  once  to  exercise  his  judgment,  his 
critical  powers ;  to  be  able  quickly  to  give  a  reason  for  the  faith 
that  is  in  him.  Let  him  not  be  in  a  hurry.  Love  must  come  first, 
criticism  afterwards." 

9  11-13  Thus  in  our  hot  haste  etc.:  This  paragraph  seems  very 
modern,  although  it  was  written  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century 
ago.  Browning,  in  his  "  What  Does,  what  Knows,  what  Is ;  three 
souls,  one  man,"  reveals  the  threefold  nature  of  all  of  us.  Unless 
each  of  these  natures  is  developed  harmoniously,  serious  results 
follow. 

10  13-14  One  would  suppose  etc.:  The  truth  of  this  paragraph  is 
finely  illustrated  in  Dr.  Mai  tineau's  "  The  Child's  Thought "  and 
Bishop  Brooks's  "The  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Temple,"  two  ser- 
mons upon  the  education  of  the  child  which  no  teacher  should  fail 
to  study.  Dr.  Martineau  says  :  "  If  both  world  and  church  will 
only  leam  what  the  child's  simple  presence  may  teach,  instead  of 


PREFACE  TO  SCHOOL  HAMLET  179 

teaching  what  he  cannot  innocently  learn,  the  truth  may  dawn  upon 
them  that  he  seldom  requires  to  be  led,  —  only  not  to  be  misled." 
Bishop  Brooks  says :  "  Every  child  is  a  separate  and  peculiar  plant, 
—  different  from  every  other.  What  shall  the  teacher  do,  then  ?  Not 
say,  '  I  will  make  this  child  before  me  this  or  that,'  but,  '  I  will 
quicken  every  activity  with  its  own  spiritual  stimulus.'  " 

11  5-8  What  a  teacher,  therefore  etc. :  That  we  are  getting  some 
results  from  such  teaching  as  Professor  Hudson  urges  in  this  para- 
graph is  evident  from  what  President  Woodrow  Wilson  says  of 
the  reform  in  teaching  at  Princeton.  "  The  new  method  is  founded 
on  the  proposition  that  a  university  is  a  place  where  men  go  to  read 
great  subjects  of  study,  and  to  be  assisted  by  friendly  preceptors 
who  ought  to  be  stimulating  and  instructive.  Not  uniformity,  but 
elasticity  of  method  is  wanted."  "  The  literary  pedant,"  says 
Professor  T.  W.  Hunt,  "  emphasizing  names  and  dates  and  the 
minutest  matters  of  an  author's  life,  is  one  type ;  the  literary  guide 
and  master,  bringing  to  light  great  generic  principles  in  literature 
and  illustrating  its  relation  to  all  high  forms  of  mental  discipline, 
is  quite  another  type,  and  the  only  worthy  one." 

12  4-G  Hence,  no  doubt,  etc.:  The  truth  of  this,  applied  to  the 
general  tendency  of  our  time  to  diffuseness,  is  aptly  illustrated  by 
Mr.  R.  H.  Hutton,  who  says :  "A  perfect  organization  of  facilities 
for  expression  carries  off  far  too  soon  everything  in  the  shape  of 
literary  feeling  and  thought  into  the  public  mind  without  giving  it 
time  to  grow  to  what  is  great  and  forcible.  ...  It  is  the  damming 
up  of  driblets  of  thought  and  feeling  which  really  creates  great 
supplies  of  such  thought  and  feeling.  The  age  of  reserve  prepares 
the  way  for  the  age  of  literary  splendour." 

13  22  For  the  learning  of  words  etc. :  President  Woodrow  Wilson 
says :  "  It  is  not  knowledge  that  moves  the  world,  but  ideals,  con- 
victions, and  whoever  studies  humanity  ought  to  study  it  alive, 
practice  the  vivisection  of  reading  literature,  and  acquaint  himself 
with  something  more  than  anatomies  which  are  no  longer  in  use 
by  spirits."  Professor  T.  W.  Hunt  says :  "  Literature  has  been  so 
held  in  abeyance  by  classical  educators  to  the  study  of  linguistics 
that  it  has  been  sacrificed  in  the  house  of  its  friends." 

14  25-27  A  constant  dissecting  etc. :  In  speaking  of  the  scientific 
method  President  Woodrow  Wilson  says :  "  If  you  do  so  limit  and 


180  NOTES 

constrain  what  you  teach,  you  thrust  taste  and  insight  and  delicacy 
of  perception  quite  out  of  the  schools  .  .  .,  make  education  an 
affair  of  tasting  and  handling  and  smelling,  and  so  create  Philistia, 
that  country  in  which  they  speak  of  '  mere  literature.'  " 

16  16-19  I  was  convinced  etc. :  These  lines  reveal  the  cause  of  the 
lack  of  interest  in  many  English  class  rooms  in  school  and  college. 
The  recitation  of  the  secondary  school  and  the  lecture  in  the  col- 
lege are  too  often  merely  mechanical  devices  to  go  through  the 
hour,  while  they  offer  bounties  to  the  one  who  can  cram  and  dis- 
gorge. It  is  small  wonder  that  Professor  William  James  attacked 
the  Ph.D.  Octopus  and  its  destructive  effect  upon  the  imagination. 
Professor  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  in  his  address  at  the  dedication  of 
Emerson  Hall,  Harvard  University,  said  that  while  the  psychologist 
by  research  might  gather  all  material  possible,  he  would  not  know 
what  to  do  with  it  unless  he  had  imagination.  Mr.  Herbert  Paul  says  : 
"  Specialists  have  substituted  for  the  old  idea  of  a  liberal  education 
a  multitude  of  narrow  and  technical  schools  for  cramming  the  mem- 
ory and  starving  the  intellect."  Mr.  A.  C.  Benson  says :  "  We  continue 
to  respect  the  erudite  mind,  and  to  decry  the  appreciative  spirit  as 
amateurish  and  dilettante,  but  omniscience  is  not  even  desirable  in 
the  ordinary  mind." 

17  16-17  For  these  reasons  etc.:  The  method  which  Professor 
Hudson  used  makes  the  greatest  demands  upon  the  teacher,  for 
he  must  first  of  all  know  literature,  and  he  must  not  parade  his 
knowledge  before  the  class.  He  must  act  as  a  guide  to  the  delight- 
ful country,  but  must  not  lecture  on  its  beauties;  he  must  allow  the 
class  to  do  its  own  seeing. 

A  significant  testimony  to  this  method  is  given  by  Dr.  H.  H. 
Furness  in  a  letter  to  Professor  Hudson.  He  writes  :  "  I  am  filled 
with  measureless  content  when  I  reflect  how  much  my  boys  will 
owe  to  you  of  their  introduction  to  Shakespeare.  They  always 
mention  your  exercises  in  their  letters,  with  great  and  increasing 
interest.  After  all,  I  am  not  sure  that  such  a  school  as  that 
[St.  Paul's,  Concord,  New  Hampshire]  does  not  constitute  the  finest 
audience  a  man  can  have,  the  echoes  of  his  voice  will  float  farther 
down  the  tide  of  time,  and  no  computation  can  estimate  the  fruit 
which  the  seed  then  sown  may  produce." 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  l8l 

ENGLISH   IN  SCHOOLS 

19  21-23  Then  too  most  of  the  pupils  etc. :  One  of  the  greatest 
problems  of  modern  secondary  education  is  how  to  furnish  the 
type  of  training  for  the  city-bred  boy  and  girl  which  life  on  the  farm 
gave  to  the  country  boy  and  girl.  As  yet  no  mechanic  arts  school, 
or  school  of  domestic  science,  has  been  created  to  do  this  work. 
As  Senator  Hoar  says :  "  There  was  never  a  better  gymnasium  for 
body  or  mind  and  soul ;  there  was  never  a  fitter  preparation  for 
college  or  university,  or  for  the  greater  university  of  the  world,  than 
the  life  from  the  early  settlement  of  the  country  down  to  a  day 
most  of  us  can  remember,  on  a  New  England  farm.  What  an  edu- 
cation in  the  old  days  when  the  thick  wood  came  up  close  to  the 
village ;  when  the  boys'  schoolmates  were  the  hawk  and  the  owl, 
and  the  raccoon  and  the  muskrat.  In  those  days  when  a  boy  wanted 
to  have  a  thing  done  he  had  to  do  it  for  himself.  He  had  to  keep 
his  eyes  and  his  ears  open  to  Nature's  constant  challenge  from  wood 
and  field  and  river  and  pond.  The  pickerel  in  the  pond,  the  musk- 
rat  in  the  river,  the  hawk  in  the  sky,  the  woodchuck  in  his  hole, 
and  the  gray  squirrel  on  the  tree  top  were  calling  to  him,  '  Get  me 
if  you  can.' " 

21  17-19  And,  good  as  vocal  intelligence  may  be  etc. :  We  are  now 
acknowledging  the  truth  of  this  idea,  for  we  have  been  taught  it  by 
the  superior  efficiency  of  the  German  in  all  that  pertains  to  the 
crafts,  an  efficiency  which  is  due  to  a  right  relation  of  mind  and 
hand. 

21  25-28  But  I  suspect  etc. :  Ruskin  says:  "I  am  always  struck 
by  the  precedence  which  the  idea  of  'a  position  in  life '  takes  above 
all  other  thoughts  in  the  parents'  —  more  especially  in  the  mothers' 
—  minds.  The  education  befitting  such  and  such  a  station  in  life, — 
this  is  the  phrase,  this  the  object,  always.  They  never  seek,  so  far 
as  I  can  make  out,  an  education  good  in  itself.  It  never  seems  to 
occur  to  these  parents  that  there  may  be  an  education  which  is 
advancement  in  life." 

23  28-31  For,  surely,  the  two  parts  of  education  etc.  :  This  is  being 
practically  worked  out  in  those  schools  where  manual  training  is 
made  a  part  of  the  regular  curriculum  of  the  school,  not  a  side 
issue  quite  unrelated  to  the  main  idea  of  education. 


182  NOTES 

24  26-27  And  here  let  me  say  etc. :  Honorable  John  D.  Long,  in  an 
address  at  Vassar  College  in  1905,  said :  "  No  one  can  look  at  modern 
society  and  not  be  appalled  at  the  outrage  and  indignities  being  com- 
mitted in  all  walks  of  life.  It  is  in  this  mass  of  festering  sores  that 
our  danger  lies.  I  look  to  see  a  new  infusion  of  culture  and  charm 
given  to  the  world  by  the  educated  woman.  It  is  her  mission  to 
save  human  society  from  vulgarity  and  decay.  If  she  train  up  her 
husband  and  children  to  simple  living,  civilization  will  go  forward 
in  this  country." 

25  11-12  Our  girls  in  school  etc.:  Tennyson  makes  this  idea  cen- 
tral in  The  Princess.    In  speaking  of  his  mother,  he  says: 

One 
Not  learned,  save  in  gracious  household  ways, 
Not  perfect,  nay,  but  full  of  tender  wants, 
No  Angel,  but  a  dearer  being,  all  dipt 
In  Angel  instincts,  breathing  Paradise, 
Interpreter  between  the  Gods  and  men, 
Who  look'd  all  native  to  her  place,  and  yet 
On  tiptoe  seem'd  to  touch  upon  a  sphere 
Too  gross  to  tread,  and  all  male  minds  perforce 
Sway'd  to  her  from  their  orbits  as  they  moved, 
And  girdled  her  with  music.    Happy  he 
With  such  a  mother! 

Canto  VII,  299-309. 

26  7-8  This  leisure  etc.:  President  Woodrow  Wilson  says:  "If 
this  free  people  to  which  we  belong  is  to  keep  its  fine  spirit,  its  per- 
fect temper  amidst  affairs,  its  high  courage  in  face  of  difficulties,  its 
wise  temperateness  and  wide-eyed  hope,  it  must  continue  to  drink 
deep  and  often  from  the  old  wells  of  English  undefiled,  quaff  the 
keen  tonic  of  its  best  ideals,  keep  its  blood  warm  with  all  the  great 
utterances  of  exalted  purpose  and  pure  principle  of  which  its  match- 
less literature  is  full.  The  great  spirits  of  the  past  must  command 
us  in  the  tasks  of  the  future,  mere  literature  will  keep  us  pure  and 
keep  us  strong." 

26  30  And  this  is  quite  as  true  etc. :  Mr.  J.  M.  Barrie  says  :  "  When 
you  looked  into  my  mother's  eyes,  you  knew  why  it  was  God  sent 
her  into  the  world :  to  open  the  eyes  of  all  who  look  to  beautiful 
thoughts,  and  this  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  literature." 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  183 

27  3-6  I  suspect  etc. :  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  says :  "  When  will 
men  understand  that  the  reading  of  great  books  is  a  faculty  to  be 
acquired,  not  a  natural  gift,  at  least  not  to  those  who  are  spoiled  by 
our  current  education  and  habits  of  life  ?  An  insatiable  appetite 
for  new  novels  makes  it  as  hard  to  read  a  masterpiece  as  it  seems 
to  a  Parisian  boulevardier  to  live  in  a  quiet  country.  Until  a  man 
can  truly  enjoy  a  draft  of  clear  water  bubbling  from  a  mountain 
side,  his  taste  is  in  an  unwholesome  state." 

28  1-3  I  say  pleasure  etc. :  I  have  always  maintained  that  the  Eng- 
lish hour  in  the  class  room  should  be  an  hour  of  recreation  for  pupil 
and  teacher.  Mr.  Alfred  Ainger  says  :  "  Only  through  some  pleas- 
ure given,  I  venture  to  assert,  is  any  profit  afforded  by  the  study 
of  an  English  writer.  .  .  .  The  great  end  then,  I  submit,  of  English 
literature  as  an  element  of  education  is  to  give  pleasured  Mr.  A.  C. 
Benson  says:  "A  man  who  reads  Virgil  for  pleasure  is  a  better 
result  of  a  system  of  education  than  one  who  re-edits  TibtilUis?'1 

29  3-7  The  thing  is  etc. :  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  says  :  "The  choice 
of  books  is  really  the  choice  of  an  education,  of  a  moral  and  intel- 
lectual ideal,  of  the  whole  duty  of  man." 

29  17-21  If  people  have  their  tastes  etc.  :  Mr.  Augustine  Birrell 
says  :  "  If,  then,  we  would  possess  good  taste,  we  must  take  pains 
about  it.  We  must  study  models,  we  must  follow  examples.  .  .  .  The 
best  way  of  telling  a  good  book  from  a  bad  one  is  to  make  yourself 
as  well  acquainted  as  you  can  with  some  of  the  great  literary  models. 
...  A  great  crowd  of  books  is  as  destructive  of  the  literary  instinct, 
which  is  a  highly  delicate  thing,  as  is  a  London  evening  party  of 
the  social  instinct." 

30  5-7  The  direct  aids  and  inspirations  etc. :  Dr.  Martin eau  says : 
"  Knowledge  bears  a  double  fruit  —  a  physical  and  a  moral.  It 
enables  us  to  do  more,  and  disposes  us  to  be  better.  But  it  is  not 
the  same  kind  of  knowledge  that  effects  both  of  these  results.  We 
increase  our  power  by  knowing  objects  that  are  beneath  us;  our 
goodness,  by  knowing  those  that  are  above  us." 

30  28-31  5  That  an  author  etc.  :  President  Woodrow  Wilson  says  : 
"  Those  writings  which  we  reckon  worthy  of  the  name  of  literature 
are  the  product  not  of  reasoned  thought,  but  of  the  imagination 
and  of  the  spiritual  vision  of  those  who  see,  —  writings  winged  not 
with  knowledge  but  with  sympathy,  with  sentiment,  with  heartiness." 


184  NOTES 

Professor  T.  W.  Hunt  says  :  "  What  is  wanting  in  these  commer- 
cial and  practical  days  is  the  spiritual  and  immortal  view  of  letters, 

—  the  exaltation  and  realization  of  the  ideal  in  literature  as  distinct 
from  the  visible,  tangible,  and  merely  mercenary." 

31  23-25  Nor  is  it  the  least  benefit  etc. :  Mr.  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phil- 
lipps  writes  to  Professor  Hudson  in  April,  1SS1  :  "  My  most  hearty 
thanks  for  the  English  in  Schools.  What  you  say  is  full  of  interest 
and  of  the  greatest  importance.  I  am  just  starting  for  Stratford- 
on-Avon  and  intend  to  reread  it  in  Shakespeare's  own  town.  Your 
able  and  eloquent  edition  of  Henry  VIII  I  am  charmed  with.  It 
came  just  in  time  for  me  to  quote  a  bit  from  your  introduction  in 
a  new  book  just  completed  which  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of 
sending  you." 

32  28-31  The  statistics  of  our  public  libraries  etc. :  Recent  reports 
from  the  Boston  Public  Library  are  very  suggestive,  and  show 
clearly  that  the  conditions  are  encouraging.  They  reveal  that  an 
increasing  proportion  of  great  poetry  is  being  called  for. 

33  12-17  Yet,  in  the  matter  of  practical  learning  etc. :  "A  man  of 
sensitive  imagination  and  elevated  moral  sense,  of  a  wide  knowledge 
and  capacity  for  affairs,  Burke  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  English 
nation  speaking  its  moral  judgments  upon  affairs,  its  character  in 
political  action,  its  purposes  of  freedom,  equity,  wide  and  equal 
progress.  It  is  the  immortal  charm  of  his  speech  and  manner  that 
gives  permanence  to  his  works.  He  is  a  master  in  the  use  of  the 
great  style."  —  President  Woodrow  Wilson. 

33  18-24  And  a  few  of  Webster's  etc. :  "  If  ever  being  walked  the 
earth  clad  in  the  panoply  of  imperial  manhood,  it  was  Daniel 
Webster.  If  ever  being  trod  the  earth  whom  the  Greek  or  Roman 
fable  would  have  made  a  demigod,  it  was  this  child  of  the  New  Hamp- 
shire farmhouse.  His  sentences  dwell  and  abide  with  us  like  the 
psalms  of  David  or  the  songs  of  Burns."  —  George  F.  Hoar. 

34  14-10  Few,  very  few  etc.:  "In  our  race  are  thousands  of 
readers,  presently  there  will  be  millions,  who  know  not  a  word  of 
Greek  or  Latin,  and  will  never  learn  these  languages.  If  this  host 
of  readers  are  ever  to  gain  any  sense  of  the  power  and  charm  of  the 
great  poets  of  antiquity,  their  way  to  gain  it  is  not  through  transla- 
tions of  the  ancients,  but  through  the  original  poetry  of  Milton." 

—  Matthew  Arnold. 


ENGLISH   IN  SCHOOLS  185 

34  28-31  I  suspect  etc. :  This  is  as  true  now  as  it  was  when  Pro- 
fessor Hudson  uttered  it.  The  testimony  of  all  those  who  have 
made  themselves  familiar  with  the  teaching  of  literature  in  the 
schools  is  that  it  is  the  one  subject  which  is  taught  almost  uni- 
formly badly.  "Mere  literature,"  says  President  Woodrow  Wilson, 
"  is  not  an  expression  of  form,  but  an  expression  of  spirit.  This  is 
a  fugitive  and  troublesome  thing,  and  perhaps  does  not  belong  in 
well-conceived  plans  of  universal  instruction ;  for  it  offers  many 
embarrassments  to  the  pedagogic  method.  It  escapes  all  scientific 
categories.  It  is  not  pervious  to  research.  It  is  too  wayward  to  be 
brought  under  the  discipline  of  exposition." 

36  9-12  How  strange  it  is,  then  etc.:  It  must  be  remembered  that 
when  these  words  were  written  there  was  no  study  of  Shakespeare 
or  the  English  classics  in  our  secondary  schools,  and  but  little  in  the 
colleges.  The  impulse  to  such  study  came  more  largely  from  Pro- 
fessor Hudson,  his  teaching  and  writing,  than  from  any  other  source. 

36  25-27  Nevertheless  I  am  far  from  thinking  etc. :  This  is  essen- 
tially the  position  taken  by  every  great  teacher  of  English  and,  I  might 
almost  say,  of  every  great  teacher  of  Science,  at  the  present  time. 

Professor  Edward  Dowden  says :  "  If  English  literature  be  con- 
nected in  our  courses  with  Greek,  Latin,  French,  or  German  litera- 
ture, the  thoughtful  student  can  hardly  fail  to  be  aroused  by  the 
comparative  studies  to  consider  questions  which  demand  an  answer 
from  philosophy."  Cf.  Professor  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  Science  and 
Idealism. 

37  16-19  The  fashion  indeed  has  been  growing  etc.  :  Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison  says :  "Assiduous  practice  in  composing  neat  essays  has 
turned  out  of  late  ten  thousand  men  and  women  who  can  put 
together  very  pleasant  prose.  It  has  not  turned  out  one  living 
master  in  prose  as  Tennyson  was  master  in  verse.  .  .  .  The  young 
student  —  ex  Iiypothesi—  has  to  learn,  not  to  teach.  His  duty  is  to 
digest  knowledge,  not  to  popularize  it  and  carry  it  abroad." 

38  26-29  And  so  the  secret  of  a  good  style  etc. :  "  What  you  need 
is,  not  a  critical  knowledge  of  language,  but  a  quick  feeling  for  it. 
You  must  immerse  your  thought  in  your  phrase,  till  each  becomes 
saturated  with  the  other.  And  you  must  produce  in  color,  with  the 
touch  of  imagination,  which  lifts  what  you  write  away  from  the  dull 
levels  of  mere  exposition."  —  President  Woodrow  Wilson. 


186  NOTES 

41  27-29  In  short  etc. :  Fortunately  we  have  made  a  great  gain  in 
this  matter  during  the  last  decade.  Wherever  English  has  had  a 
fair  chance  in  our  secondary  schools,  it  assumes  a  position  of  dignity 
and  power  second  to  no  subject  in  the  curriculum. 

43  c-9  The  chronic  nervous  intensity  etc. :  Professor  William 
James,  in  his  Talks  on  Psychology  and  Life's  Ideals,  —  a  splendid 
recent  corroboration  of  Dr.  Hudson's  ideas  on  education,  —  says : 
"  We  say  that  so  many  of  our  fellow-countrymen  collapse,  and 
have  to  be  sent  abroad  to  rest  their  nerves,  because  they  work 
so  hard.  I  suspect  that  this  is  an  immense  mistake.  I  suspect  that 
neither  the  nature  nor  the  amount  of  their  work  is  accountable  for 
the  frequency  and  severity  of  our  breakdowns,  but  that  their  cause 
lies  rather  in  those  absurd  feelings  of  hurry  and  having  no  time, 
in  that  breathlessness  and  tension,  that  anxiety  of  feature  and  that 
solicitude  for  results,  that  lack  of  inner  harmony  and  ease,  in  short, 
by  which  with  us  the  work  is  so  apt  to  be  accompanied,  and  from 
which  a  European  who  should  do  the  same  work  would  nine  times 
out  of  ten  be  free." 

46  21-24  Nor  would  I  attempt  etc. :  "  It  is  through  the  subject- 
matter  that  the  interest  of  students  can  be  best  maintained,  and  if 
so  maintained,  whatever  incidental  instruction  may  be  called  for 
(and  to  be  called  for,  it  must  be  relevant  to  the  subject-matter)  will 
tell  the  better  upon  them.  But  even  if  relevant  it  must  not  be 
allowed  to  divert  the  current  of  thought  and  feeling  into  standing 
pools."  —  Professor  Hiram  Corson. 

47  2-4  For  such  delight  etc. :  President  Woodrow  Wilson,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  deadening  results  of  too  much  emphasis  upon  details  as 
revealed  in  the  methods  called  scientific,  says  :  "  We  must  not  be 
impatient  of  this  truant  child  of  fancy  (the  spirit  of  mere  literature). 
When  the  schools  cast  her  out,  she  will  stand  in  need  of  friendly 
succor.  We  must  be  free  hearted  in  order  to  make  her  happy,  for 
she  will  accept  entertainment  of  no  sober,  prudent  fellow  who  shall 
counsel  her  to  mend  her  ways.  She  has  always  made  light  of  hard- 
ships, and  she  has  never  loved  or  obeyed  any  save  those  who  were 
of  her  own  mind,  those  who  were  indulgent  to  her  humors,  re- 
sponsive to  her  ways  of  thought,  attentive  to  her  whims,  content 
with  her  '  mere '  charms.  She  already  has  her  small  following  of 
devotees,  like  all  charming,  capricious  mistresses.    There  are  some 


ENGLISH   IN   SCHOOLS  187 

still  who  think  that    to    know   her  is  better   than   a  liberal    edu- 
cation." 

47  23-29  From  all  which  it  follows  etc. :  The  new  requirements  for 
college  entrance  examination  in  English  have  done  much  to  rid  the 
schools  of  scrappy  texts.  We  are  now  studying  authors  as  individ- 
uals revealed  through  their  works.  This  requires  the  use  of  single 
texts  rather  than  aggregations  covering  long  periods  of  time. 

"  Students  are  not  kept  long  enough  in  contact  with  the  inner 
life  of  English  Letters  to  take  in  something  of  that  spirit  that  per- 
vades them."  —  Professor  T.  W.  Hunt. 

48  17-19  As  for  the  matter  of  rhetoric  etc. :  The  place  of  formal 
rhetoric  in  the  school  and  the  college  is  a  subject  of  much  discussion. 
I  believe  that  too  much  pressure  put  upon  it  before  the  student 
becomes  familiar  with  the  great  prose  writers  leads  to  mischief,  in 
that  it  results  in  a  belief,  on  the  part  of  the  student,  that  rhetoric  is 
the  cause  of  literary  workmanship ;  whereas,  if  it  be  postponed  to  a 
period  when  great  prose  can  be  used  as  illustrating  the  principles 
both  of  logic  and  rhetoric,  the  student  sees  at  once  that  the  laws  of 
each  only  reveal  the  manner  in  which  the  author  was  in  the  habit 
of  thinking.  The  testimony  of  men  of  letters  on  the  subject  is  to  the 
point.  Mr.  John  Morley  says :  "  I  have  very  little  faith  in  rules  of 
style,  though  I  have  an  unbounded  faith  in  the  virtue  of  cultivating 
direct  and  precise  expression.  But  you  must  carry  on  the  operation 
inside  the  mind,  and  not  merely  practice  literary  deportment  on 
paper.  So  far  as  my  observation  has  gone,  men  will  do  better  if  they 
seek  precision  by  studying  carefully  and  with  an  open  mind  and  a 
vigilant  eye  the  great  models  of  writing,  than  by  excessive  practice 
of  writing  on  their  own  account." 

Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  says  :  "  The  bare  art  of  writing  readable 
paragraphs  in  passable  English  is  easy  enough  to  master.  But  it  is 
a  poor  art  which  readily  lends  itself  to  harm.  It  leads  the  shallow 
ones  to  suppose  themselves  deep,  the  raw  ones  to  fancy  they  are 
cultured,  and  it  burdens  the  world  with  a  deluge  of  facile  common- 
place." 

Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  says  :  "  I  have  often  heard  remarks  upon  the 
modern  diffusion  of  literary  skill.  Ten  people,  it  is  said,  can  write 
well  now  for  one  who  could  write  well  fifty  years  ago.  No  doubt  the 
demand  for  facile  writing  has  enormously  increased  the  supply.   But 


188  NOTES 

I  do  not  think  that  first-rate  writing  —  the  writing  which  speaks  of 
a  full  mind  and  strong  convictions,  which  is  clear  because  it  is 
thorough  not  because  it  is  shallow  —  has  increased  in  the  same 
proportion  ;  if,  indeed,  we  can  be  sure  that  it  has  increased  at  all. 
Perhaps  there  are  ten  times  as  many  people  who  can  put  other  men's 
thoughts  into  fine  phrases ;  but  are  there  ten  times  as  many,  are 
there  even  as  many,  who  think  for  themselves  and  speak  at  first 
hand  ? " 

50  JO-l-J  Unquestionably  the  right  way  etc.:  Mr.  James  Russell 
Lowell  says  :  "  One  is  sometimes  asked  by  young  people  to  recom- 
mend a  course  of  '  reading.'  My  advice  would  be  that  they  should 
confine  themselves  to  the  supreme  books  in  whatever  literature,  or 
still  better,  to  choose  some  one  great  author,  and  make  themselves 
thoroughly  familiar  with  him.  .  .  .  This  method  forces  upon  us  the 
necessity  of  thinking,  which  is,  after  all,  the  highest  result  of  all 
education." 

50  26-28  It  is  indeed  sometimes  urged  etc. :  Mr.  James  Russell 
Lowell  says :  "  We  are  apt  to  wonder  at  the  scholarship  of  the  men 
of  three  centuries  ago,  and  at  a  certain  dignity  of  phrase  that  charac- 
terizes them.  They  were  scholars  because  they  did  not  read  so  many 
things  as  we.  They  had  fewer  books,  but  these  were  of  the  best. 
Their  speech  was  noble  because  they  lunched  with  Plutarch  and 
supped  with  Plato." 

52  15-18  So  let  our  youth  etc. :  "  Of  all  our  study  the  last  end  and 
aim  should  be  to  ascertain  how  a  great  writer  or  artist  has  served 
the  life  of  man  ;  to  ascertain  this,  to  bring  home  to  ourselves  as  large 
a  portion  as  may  be  of  the  gain  wherewith  he  has  enriched  human 
life."  —  Edward  Dowden. 

SHAKESPEARE  AS  A  TEXT-BOOK 

54  18-20  The  plays,  in  all  cases  etc. :  The  matter  of  expurgation 
is  of  the  greatest  importance  where  the  plays  are  to  be  read  aloud  in 
the  class  room.  Professor  Hudson  managed  this  with  consummate 
skill  and  sound  judgment. 

58  29-30  Especially  I  make  much  of  reading  etc. :  Professor  Hiram 
Corson  says :  "  In  literary  examinations  a  sufficiently  qualified 
teacher  could  arrive  at  a  nicer  and  more  certain  estimate  of  what 


SHAKESPEARE   IN   SCHOOL  189 

a  student  has  appropriated,  both  intellectually  and  spiritually,  of  a 
literary  product,  by  requiring  him  to  read  it,  than  he  could  arrive  at 
by  any  amount  of  catechising." 

61  3-5  As  to  exercises  in  the  Poet's  versification  etc. :  Much  insight 
into  the  poet's  art  of  versification  may  be  acquired  by  simple  exer- 
cises in  reading  it  aloud,  by  comparing  his  verse  with  that  of  other 
great  poets,  and  by  studying  such  a  simple  explanation  of  it  as  that 
given  in  Professor  Dowden's  Primer  of  Shakespeare.  I  believe  that 
exercises  in  writing  verse  are  of  great  value  in  teaching  the  tonic 
resources  of  language,  its  flexibility,  its  wealth,  its  suggestiveness, 
and  its  power  of  revealing  feelings  of  joy  and  grief,  pity  and  pathos, 
love  and  hate.  By  such  exercises  the  student's  vocabulary  will 
become  richer,  his  habits  of  expression  more  dignified,  his  taste 
more  refined,  and  his  imagination  quickened. 

HOW  TO  USE  SHAKESPEARE  IN  SCHOOL 

63  9-14  And  in  the  first  place  etc.:  "  Method"  has  been  the  word 
of  our  teachers  of  pedagogy,  and  it  has  been  insisted  upon  with  such 
force  that  too  often  the  young  teacher  is  found  imitating  the  method 
of  a  successful  instructor  at  the  expense  of  his  own  initiative.  The 
personal  element  in  the'teacher,  his  interest,  enthusiasm,  and  devo- 
tion, will  seldom  fail  of  good  results. 

66  19-24  And  both  they  and  I  know  etc. :  Dr.  H.  H.  Furness  wrote 
to  Professor  Hudson  :  "  I  work  for  my  own  satisfaction  and  the  glory 
of  Shakespeare,  and  if,  as  the  outcome  of  all  my  labor,  a  new  edition 
and  a  better  emerges  out  of  mine,  wherein  no  reference  to  my  toil  is 
found,  I  should  have  no  feeling  but  that  of  grateful  delight." 

67  7-9  Now  such  a  love  etc. :  Professor  Edward  Dowden  says  : 
"An  intelligent  examiner  will  give  a  preference  to  questions  which 
do  more  than  test  the  memory.  There  is  a  class  of  questions  which 
serve  as  a  test  of  close  and  intelligent  reading,  and  also  give  the 
student  an  opportunity  of  showing  whether  he  has  exercised  what 
I  may  call  the  faculty  of  imaginative  realization." 

70  5-9  In  the  first  place,  I  never  have  had  etc. :  Every  exercise  in 
English  literature  ought  to  be  made  vital  by  bringing  the  pupils  into 
touch  with  the  personality  which  created  the  work  in  hand,  by  cor- 
relating the   principles  and  ideals  it  contains  with  the  life  of  the 


190 


NOTES 


present,  by  revealing  that  literature  is  not  a  storehouse  of  facts,  but 
a  reservoir  of  truths,  the  appreciation  of  which  constitutes  our  true 
being.  Such  exercises  are  not  concerned  with  the  intellectual 
activity  called  acquirement,  but  with  the  spiritual  activity  called  cul- 
ture. Often  the  colleges  do  not  know  what  kind  of  work  in  the 
study  of  literature  the  best  schools  are  doing.  Not  long  ago  a  club 
composed  of  masters  of  English  in  the  secondary  schools  called  the 
attention  of  the  Harvard  examiners  to  the  technical  character  of  the 
questions  set  for  entrance  in  English,  and  asked  that  a  fair  propor- 
tion of  the  questions  should  test  the  student's  ability  to  read  with 
insight  and  appreciation,  —  a  sense  of  literary  values,  —  rather  than 
his  knowledge  of  details.  If  one  compares  the  Harvard  examina- 
tions in  English  in  1894  with  those  of  1904- 1905,  one  will  readily 
see  the  result  of  this  conference. 

President  Hadley  has  said  that  if  the  secondary  schools  con- 
tinued to  send  to  Yale  students  with  a  confirmed  dislike  for  English 
studies,  he  would  withdraw  the  entrance  requirements  in  English, 
as  the  instructors  would  rather  deal  with  those  students  who  had  no 
special  appreciation  of  literature  than  with  those  who  had  formed  a 
dislike  for  it.  The  Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology,  under  the 
leadership  of  President  Pritchett,  has  come  to  recognize  the  impor- 
tance of  academic  studies  in  technical  work,  and  now  asks  of  a  pupil 
who  presents  himself  for  admission  in  English,  "Ability  to  express 
himself  in  writing  at  once  clear  and  accurate,  and  power  to  distinguish 
in  a  broad  sense  literary  values,  —  the  qualities  which  mark  a  work 
as  being  Literature." 

These  advances  show  clearly  that  the  ideals  which  Professor 
Hudson  held  important  have  now  an  honorable  recognition  in  the 
greatest  colleges  and  universities.  The  establishment  of  the  Honor 
School  in  Literature  and  History  by  Harvard  University  is  one  of 
the  most  significant  movements  in  modern  education  in  this  country, 
and  will  take  rank  with  that  of  the  Preceptorial  system  at  Princeton. 
Both  of  these  have  for  their  ideal  not  scientific  research,  but  rather 
the  cultivation  of  taste,  delicacy,  and  insight  by  association  with 
those  who  possessed  them  without  ever  being  able  to  pass  a  credit- 
able examination  on  the  question,  "  Where  did  you  get  them  ? " 
The  student  is  required  to  submit  himself  to  a  teacher,  and  to  ask 
no  question  as  to  the  secret  of  his  influence.    This  method  is  a 


THE  HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  191 

recognition  of  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen's  teaching,  that  "all  criticism 
not  rooted  in  history  is  a  nuisance  and  a  parasitic  growth  upon 
literature." 

71  1-6  And  I  make  a  good  deal  of  having  the  Poet's  lines  read  properly 
etc.:  Shakespeare's  frequent  allusions  to  those  qualities  of  the  human 
voice  which  give  it  pathos,  charm,  and  power,  reveal  the  fact  that 
he  was  responsive  to  its  attractions. 

Professor  Hiram  Corson  says :  "  There  is  evidence  in  the  Plays 
that,  in  composition,  Shakespeare  must  either  have  heard  imagi- 
natively what  he  was  writing,  or  have  actually  voiced  his  language 
as  he  went  along.    He  did  not  write  for  the  eye,  but  for  the  ear." 

75  5-10  In  fact,  I  cleave  rather  fondly  etc. :  I  know  of  no  teacher  of 
English  literature  in  this  country  of  whom  his  pupils  oftener  think 
with  pleasure  and  speak  with  delight  than  Dr.  Hudson. 

83  17-18  And,  if  the  thing  etc. :  To  some  this  may  seem  like  put- 
ting the  case  too  emphatically,  but  those  familiar  with  teaching 
will,  I  think,  agree  with  Dr.  Hudson.  Fortunately  we  are  now 
giving  more  attention  to  the  physical  training  of  girls ;  we  are 
making  less  of  the  examination  —  especially  of  that  type  which 
admits  of  cramming  —  and  more  of  that  training  which  develops 
power  of  thought  and  imagination. 

PREFACE   TO   THE   HARVARD  EDITION  OF 
SHAKESPEARE 

87  1-5  The  most  obvious  peculiarity  etc. :  Cf.  note  3  15,  page  177. 

87  21-22  It  scarce  need  be  said  etc. :  The  Revised  Hudson  Shake- 
speare furnishes  the  special  student  with  more  critical  and  textual 
matter  than  the  original,  while  it  does  not  present  so  much  as  to 
discourage  the  general  reader.  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel,  the  author  of  A 
Time  Analysis  of  the  Plots  of  Shakespeare's  Plays,  in  the  New 
Shakespeare  Society  Papers,  Series  I,  and  Notes  and  Emendations, 
wrote  to  Dr.  Hudson  as  follows  :  "  To  my  fancy  the  common  reader 
wants  no  notes  interspersed  with  the  text :  they  but  distract  his 
attention  from  the  subject  which  should  exclusively  engage  it.  .  .  . 
Your  edition  will  probably  lead  many  to  the  critical  study  of  the 
text  and  will  probably  satisfy  the  popular  demand."  Mr.  J.  O. 
Halliwell-Phillipps,  author  of  Outlines  of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare, 


192  NOTES 

etc.,  wrote :  "  The  division  of  the  excellent  notes  into  two  sets  is  a 
splendid  arrangement  that  alone  would  give  character  to  the  work." 

88  19-22  This  edition  etc. :  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel  wrote  :  "  Of  the  im- 
mense labor,  care,  and  knowledge  of  the  subject  you  have  displayed 
—  or  rather,  I  should  say,  concealed — in  the  preparation  of  the  text, 
each  page  is  witness,  and  all  who  know  anything  of  the  difficulties 
which  beset  the  path  of  an  editor  of  Shakespeare  will,  I  am  sure, 
appreciate  the  result." 

89  6-9  For  it  has  long  been  a  settled  axiom  etc. :  Mr.  Matthew 
Arnold  says  :  "  We  should  conceive  of  poetry  worthily,  and  more 
highly  than  it  has  been  the  custom  to  conceive  it.  We  should  con- 
ceive of  it  as  capable  of  higher  uses,  and  called  to  higher  destinies 
than  those  which  in  general  men  have  assigned  to  it  hitherto.  More 
and  more  mankind  will  discover  that  we  turn  to  poetry  to  interpret 
life  for  us,  to  console  us,  to  sustain  us." 

90  19-21  These  remarks,  I  believe  etc. :  In  ordering  a  set  of  this 
edition  sent  to  the  English  Shakespeare  Memorial  Library,  and  the 
Library  of  the  German  Shakespeare  Society,  Dr.  Horace  Howard 
Furness  wrote :  "  I  scarcely  know  how  I  can  better  show  my  high 
appreciation  of  this  noble  edition  than  by  placing  it  where  English 
and  German  scholars  can  have  free  access  to  it  and  learn  from  it 
the  wealth  of  love  and  learning  which  in  this  country  is  dedicated  to 
Shakespeare."  Professor  Dowden  wrote  :  "  Hudson's  edition  takes 
its  place  beside  the  best  work  of  English  Shakespeare  students." 
Mr.  F.  J.  Furnivall,  in  his  introduction  to  The  Leopold  Shakespeare, 
said  :  "  In  Shakesperean  criticism,  Gervinus  of  Heidelberg,  Dowden 
of  Dublin,  and  Hudson  of  Boston  are  the  students'  best  guides  that 
we  have."  Mr.  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  wrote  :  "  The  Harvard  edi- 
tion has  given  me  the  greatest  treat  that  I  have  had  for  many  a 
day,  and  I  can  hardly  express  how  much  pleasure  it  affords  me  to 
possess  so  admirable  a  work,  edited  as  it  is  with  such  exceptional 
ability  and  knowledge."  The  above  are  but  a  few  of  the  opinions 
of  the  eminent  Shakespeareans  who  expressed  to  Dr.  Hudson  their 
appreciation  of  his  great  work. 

91  22-30  Therewithal,  the  Poet  etc. : 

Others  abide  our  question.    Thou  art  free. 
We  ask  and  ask  —  Thou  smilest  and  art  still, 
Out-topping  knowledge.  .  .  . 


THE  HARVARD  SHAKESPEARE  193 

All  pains  the  immortal  Spirit  must  endure, 

All  weakness  which  impairs,  all  griefs  which  bow, 

Find  their  sole  speech  in  that  victorious  brow. 

Matthew  Arnold. 

92  19-24  And  here  it  is  of  the  first  importance  etc. :  One  who  reads 
Dr.  Hudson's  Shakespeare's  Life,  Art,  and  Characters  will  be  im- 
pressed with  the  directness,  originality,  and  vigor  of  style,  —  the 
unique  power  of  putting  things  clearly. 

94  11-16  It  is  the  instinct  etc.:  Professor  Dowden  says:  "Our 
prime  object  (in  reading)  should  be  to  get  into  living  relation  with 
a  man ;  and  by  this  means,  with  the  good  forces  of  nature  and 
humanity  which  play  in  and  through  him.  This  aim  condemns  all 
reading  for  pride  and  vainglory  as  wholly  astray,  and  all  reading  for 
scholarship  and  specialized  knowledge  as  partial  and  insufficient. 
We  must  not  read  for  these,  but  for  life;  we  must  read  in  order 
to  live." 

95  9-15  Small  points  and  issues  etc. :  Mr.  J.  Churton  Collins  says : 
"  Literature  has  been  regarded  (in  the  schools)  not  as  the  expression 
of  art  and  genius,  but  as  mere  material  for  the  study  of  words,  as 
mere  pabulum  for  philology ;  and  the  teaching  of  it  has  failed  for 
the  same  reason  that  '  Classics '  have  failed.  It  has  failed  not  be- 
cause it  affords  no  material  profitable  for  teaching,  but  because  we 
pervert  it  into  material  for  unprofitable  teaching." 

96  8-10  Thus  Shakespeare  etc. :  Fortunately  we  are  now  returning 
to  the  old  habit  of  reading  the  Bible  as  a  revelation  of  a  national 
literature,  although  such  a  reading  of  it  is  deemed  heretical  by  the 
severely  orthodox.  Can  the  Bible  become  less  influential  by  being 
read  with  interest  and  pleasure  as  literature  ?  After  a  somewhat 
extended  experience  with  pupils  in  secondary  schools  and  in  college, 
I  can  testify  that  when  thus  read  and  correlated  with  other  great 
literatures  it  becomes  a  source  of  unique  educational  power. 

97  21-24  It  seems  to  be  presumed  etc. :  In  regard  to  this  matter 
President  Woodrow  Wilson  wrote  me  :  "  I  heartily  agree  with  all 
that  you  say  about  the  teaching  of  English  literature.  No  method 
'  made  in  Germany '  can  ever  get  at  the  heart  of  our  great  litera- 
ture, and  by  using  such  methods  we  are  cheating  ourselves  out  of  a 
great  heritage,  stupidly  if  not  deliberately."  Mr.  J.  Churton  Collins 
says  :  "  The  instincts  and  faculties  which  separate  the  temperament 


194  NOTES 

of  the  mathematician  from  the  temperament  of  the  poet  are  not 
more  radical  and  essential  than  the  instincts  and  faculties  which 
separate  the  sympathetic  student  of  Philology  from  the  sympathetic 
student  of  Polite  Literature.  And  of  all  the  sciences  Philology  is 
the  most  repugnant  to  men  of  artistic  and  literary  taste." 

98  27-30  such,  for  instance  etc. :  Every  student  of  Shakespeare 
feels  the  truth  of  Dr.  Hudson's  praise  of  these  noble  monuments  to 
American  scholarship. 

The  other  famous  Variorum  editions  are  :  Isaac  Reed's,  based  on 
Steevens's  work  of  1773,  and  published  in  twenty-one  volumes  in 
1803;  that  of  James  Boswell,  the  son  of  Johnson's  biographer,  based 
on  Malone's  edition  of  1790,  and  published  in  twenty-one  volumes 
in  1821. 

100  6-8  Copies  of  these  editions  etc. :  "  The  largest  collections  of 
the  original  Quartos  —  each  of  which  only  survives  in  four,  five,  or 
six  copies  —  are  in  the  libraries  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  the 
British  Museum,  in  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  in  the  Bodleian 
Library.  Perfect  copies  range  in  price,  according  to  their  rarity,  from 
.£200  to  ,£300."  —  Sidney  Lee.  Inexpensive  facsimiles  of  these 
Quartos  are  now  accessible. 

100  25  folio  of  1623.  Cf.  A  P7-imer  of  Shakespeare,  Edward  Dow- 
den  ;  A  Life  of  William  Shakespeare,  Sidney  Lee,  page  303. 

101  23-24  In  their  "Address  to  the  Readers"  etc. :  Cf.  Famous  In- 
troductions to  Shakespeare's  Plays  by  B.  Warner. 

102  9-10  The  folio  was  reprinted  etc.:  These  are  known  as  the 
Second,  Third,  and  Fourth  Folios  respectively,  and  designated  as  F2, 
F31  F4. 

102  24  "Collier's  second  folio  "  :  Cf.  Sidney  Lee's  various  allusions 
to  Collier's  work  in  A  Life  of  William  Shakespeare. 

104  4-7  The  labors  etc. :  Mr.  A.  C.  Swinburne  says  :  "  The  great- 
est poet  of  our  age  has  drawn  a  parallel  of  elaborate  eloquence 
between  Shakespeare  and  the  sea;  and  the  likeness  holds  good  in 
many  points  of  less  significance  than  those  which  have  been  set 
down  by  a  master  hand.  For  two  hundred  years  at  least  have 
students  of  every  kind  put  forth  in  every  sort  of  boats  on  a  longer 
or  shorter  voyage  of  research  across  the  waters  of  that  unsounded 
sea.  .  .  .  There  are  shoals  and  quicksands  on  which  many  a  sea- 
farer has  run  his  craft  aground  in  times  past,  and  others  of  more 


THE  HARVARD  SHAKESPEARE      195 

special  peril  to  adventurers  of  the  present  day.  At  one  time  a  main 
rock  of  offense  on  which  the  stoutest  ships  of  discovery  were  wont 
to  split  was  the  narrow  and  slippery  reef  of  verbal  emendation : 
and  upon  this  our  native  pilots  were  too  many  of  them  prone  to 
steer.  Others  fell  becalmed  offshore  in  a  German  fog  of  philosophic 
theories." 

104  21-24  His  text  etc. :  This  sentiment  is  even  more  common  now 
than  in  Dr.  Hudson's  time,  and  the  tendency  of  modern  editors  is 
to  return  to  the  text  of  the  Folios  and  Quartos.  In  revising  the  text 
of  Hudson's  Shakespeare  changes  have  been  made  mainly  in  favor 
of  the  early  editions. 

105  ir>-it3  The  work  of  ascertaining  etc.  :  Rowe  has  the  distinction 
of  being  the  first  biographer  of  Shakespeare,  and  what  he  included 
in  his  sketch  still  remains  as  essentially  all  that  we  know  in  regard 
to  the  poet's  life.  His  text  was  based  upon  that  of  the  Fourth 
Folio  and  has  no  special  value.  His  greatest  service  was  in  prepar- 
ing a  list  of  Dramatis  Persona;  and  dividing  the  plays  into  acts  and 
scenes. 

105  17-19  The  work  was  continued  by  Pope:  Pope  was  Shake- 
speare's second  editor  (1725).  He  made  many  textual  changes  in 
the  edition  of  Rowe,  and  also  improved  on  Rowe's  arrangement  of 
scenes. 

105  19  Pope  was  followed  by  Theobald :  The  war  of  the  critics 
began  with  Theobald's  vigorous  attack  upon  Pope  in  1726  for  his 
freedom  with  the  text.  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  calls  Theobald  "  the  most 
inspired  of  all  the  textual  critics  of  Shakespeare."  He  based  his 
text  on  the  First  Folio,  and  by  far  the  larger  part  of  his  emenda- 
tions have  become  generally  adopted.  Professor  Hudson  had  the 
greatest  respect  for  him,  and  the  principles  he  lays  down  as  to  the 
handling  of  Shakespeare's  text  are  in  the  vein  of  this  great  editor. 

105  21  Hanmer's  edition :  This  edition  was  published  in  1744  at 
the  Oxford  University  Press.  Hanmer  did  not  indulge  in  abuse  of 
previous  editors,  but  arranged  the  text  to  suit  himself,  quite  disre- 
garding the  old  copies. 

105  21  Warburton's  :  Bishop  Warburton  published  a  revised  ver- 
sion of  Pope's  edition  in  1747.  The  Bishop  espoused  the  cause  of 
Pope  and  attacked  Rowe,  Theobald,  and  Hanmer.  His  canons  of 
criticism  have  been  recognized  as  eminently  sound  and  sagacious. 


196  NOTES 

In  1S81  Mr.  C.  M.  Ingleby  wrote  to  Professor  Hudson :  "  Karl  Elze 
and  I  differ  in  toto  about  Bishop  Warburton.  I  am  pleased  to 
see  that  you  do  honor  to  the  great  critic,  second  only,  I  think, 
to  Theobald." 

105  23  Johnson:  In  1765  Dr.  Johnson  published  his  edition,  in 
which  he  reviewed  the  work  of  previous  editors  with  a  somewhat 
arrogant  criticism.  The  preface  contains  some  of  the  most  valuable 
suggestions  as  to  notes  to  works  of  literary  art  and  the  value  of 
first-hand  acquaintance  with  authors. 

105  23  Capell :  Edward  Capell,  in  his  edition  of  1768,  made 
careful  collation  of  the  Quartos  and  First  and  Second  Folios.  In 
scholarly  and  painstaking  work  he  resembled  Theobald. 

105  23  Steevens  :  In  1766  Steevens  printed  twenty  plays  from  the 
Quartos  and  correlated  contemporary  literature  with  that  of  Shake- 
speare;  and  in  1773  he  revised  Johnson's  edition.  He  played  so 
many  pranks  with  the  text  that  he  was  called  the  "  Puck  of 
Commentators." 

105  24  Malone :  Edmund  Malone  was  the  last  of  the  great  editors 
of  the  eighteenth  century.  He  stoutly  maintained  that  the  First 
Folio  had  a  far  greater  value  as  authority  on  text  than  any  other. 
He  was  the  first  of  the  critics  to  attempt  a  proper  chronological 
order  of  the  plays. 

The  prefaces  to  these  editions,  from  the  Folio  of  1623  to  that  of 
Malone,  have  been  recently  published  in  a  single  volume,  with  an 
introduction  by  Mr.  Beverly  Warner.  It  is  a  book  of  great  value  to 
students  of  literary  history. 

108  21-24  Certainly  changes  in  the  old  text  etc.  :  In  his  earliest 
edition  Professor  Hudson  took  some  liberties  in  this  matter  of  text 
which  caused  him  to  be  looked  upon  as  extremely  radical,  but  in 
his  later  work  he  was  more  conservative. 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  from  his  coworkers  in  Eng- 
land reveal  in  what  esteem  he  was  held  as  a  textual  critic.  Mr.  P.  A. 
Daniel  wrote  :  "Although  on  some  matters  of  detail  I  might  differ 
from  you,  yet  on  the  whole  I  offer  you  my  hearty  congratulations." 
Mr.  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  wrote :  "  There  are  some  points  upon 
which  I  don't  agree  with  you,  but  that,  of  course,  you  will  expect. 
Different  minds  can  never  quite  agree  on  many  points,  especially  of 


THE  HARVARD   SHAKESPEARE  197 

authorship."  Mr.  C.  M.  Ingleby  wrote :  "  We  should  have  to  cross 
swords,  in  honor  not  in  hate,  many  times  in  the  course  of  a  play. 
The  spirit  of  the  whole  is  good  and  right ;  and  you  sway  your  scepter 
with  a  dignified  fairness  which  is  delightful." 

The  distinguished  English  Shakespearean,  Professor  Edward 
Dowden  of  Dublin,  sends  me  an  interesting  and  suggestive  estimate 
of  Dr.  Hudson's  work.  He  says  :  "  Hudson  seems  to  me  to  take  a 
very  high  place  among  critics  who  have  interpreted  the  genius  and 
the  art  of  Shakespeare.  He  is  both  comprehensive  and  penetrating, 
is  alive  both  to  the  ethical  and  the  aesthetic  aspects  of  Shake- 
speare's work;  and  he  enters  in  a  genial  way  into  the  study  of 
character  in  the  tragedies,  historical  plays,  and  comedies.  He  has 
excellent  discretion  and  good  sense.  Few  persons  have  done  so 
much  as  Hudson  to  make  the  study  of  Shakespeare  a  part  of  edu- 
cation. As  a  textual  critic  he  is  often  ingenious  and  acute,  but  he 
was  perhaps  less  widely  read  in  Elizabethan  literature  than  is 
required  for  sure  textual  criticism,  and  I  think  he  was  somewhat 
too  ready  to  displace  the  old  text  by  clear,  but  not  always  needful, 
emendation." 

114  31-115  2  Yet  the  whole  thing  is  totally  ignored  etc. :  Mr.  Hor- 
ace Howard  Furness,  on  receiving  the  Harvard  Shakespeare,  wrote  : 
"  I  broke  away  from  Christmas  festivity  and  sat  down  to  your 
Preface,  and  I  need  not  say  I  thoroughly  admire  it.  In  one  or  two 
places  where  I  do  not  now  agree  with  you  I  am  ready  to  wait  until 
better  wisdom  comes  to  me.  I  cannot  disagree  with  you  and  feel 
easy  in  my  conscience." 

116  9-io  And  now  a  word  as  to  the  ordering  of  the  plays  etc. :  In 
this  matter  Professor  Dowden's  Primer  and  Mr.  Sidney  Lee's  A  Life 
of  William  Shakespeare  are  excellent  guides  for  the  student. 

116  22-27  This  is  done  merely  etc.:  I  think  Professor  Hudson 
underestimated  the  value  of  reading  the  plays  in  the  order  of  their 
creation.  If  they  are,  like  the  works  of  all  great  poets,  "part  of  a 
great  confession,"  then  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  they  be 
read  historically.  Professor  Dowden  has  treated  this  subject  with 
clearness  and  wisdom  in  his  chapter,  "  The  Teaching  of  English 
Literature,"  New  Studies  in  Literature. 


198  NOTES 

DANIEL  WEBSTER 

119  13-16  She  has  not  seen  fit  etc.:  For  an  interesting  review  of 
Webster's  life  and  his  various  activities,  the  student  should  read 
The  Proceedings  of  the  Webster  Centennial  of  Dartmouth  College, 
1  go  1. 

121  16-23  But  what,  in  this  regard  etc.:  Honorable  George  F. 
Hoar,  in  his  speech  at  the  Webster  Centennial  at  Dartmouth  College, 
said :  "  How  many  men  have  there  been  in  this  country  whose  col- 
lege would  celebrate  their  taking  their  degree  one  hundred  years 
afterward  ?  It  might  have  been  done  for  Washington  and  Lincoln. 
But  they  were  not  college  men.  It  might  have  been  done  for  Ham- 
ilton or  Jefferson.  But  neither  Hamilton  nor  Jefferson  got  through 
college,  and  Jefferson  was  not  in  general  a  favorite  with  college 
men.  I  believe  Bowdoin  will  do  it  for  Longfellow,  and  I  believe 
Harvard  will  do  it  for  Emerson.  I  cannot  think  of  any  other.  Yet 
no  man  will  doubt  the  absolute  fitness  of  the  ceremonial  to-day." 

122  13-16  I  had  not  then  learned  etc.  :  Cf.  Mr.  E.  P.  Whipple's 
admirable  essay  on  Webster  as  a  Master  of  English  Style. 

In  July,  1 891,  Senator  George  F.  Hoar  wrote  to  me  the  following 
in  regard  to  Webster's  style :  "  It  is  very  common,  even  with  accom- 
plished and  able  critics,  to  speak  of  Mr.  Webster's  style  as  an  exam- 
ple of  pure  Saxon.  This  is  a  great  mistake.  In  a  few  passages 
where  his  mind  seems  to  have  been  at  a  white  heat  his  sentences 
have  a  rugged  Saxon  character.  But  if  you  open  any  volume  of 
Mr.  Webster's  speeches  at  random  and  read  the  first  sentences  that 
strike  the  eye,  you  will  see  that  his  ordinary  style  is  a  highly  Latin- 
ized one.  He  uses  long  sentences  with  dependent  clauses,  and  long 
words  of  Latin  derivation.  Indeed,  I  think  some  of  our  teachers 
of  composition  carry  their  dislike  of  the  use  of  Latin  idioms  alto- 
gether too  far,  and  that,  if  their  advice  were  taken,  our  language 
would  lose  a  good  deal  of  its  variety,  its  capacity  for  expression,  nice 
shades  of  meaning,  and  its  dignity.  Persons  who  wish  to  cover  up 
the  absence  of  thought  by  a  pompous  and  inflated  style  naturally 
resort  to  words  which  come  from  the  Latin,  and  against  them  this 
condemnation  is  well  directed.  But  the  profound  thoughts  of 
Daniel  Webster,  the  great  and  clear  distinctions  which  the  course 
of  his  arguments  required  him  to  draw  and  to  make  plain  to  the 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  199 

apprehension  of  his  hearers  found  suitable  expression  only  by  using 
the  great  resources  of  the  Latin  speech." 

124  2-4  while  Burke's  etc.:  President  Woodrow  Wilson,  in  his 
interesting  study  of  Burke,  the  Interpreter  of  English  Liberty,  says: 
"  Burke  is  not  literary  because  he  takes  from  books,  but  because 
he  makes  books,  transmuting  what  he  writes  upon  into  literature. 
It  is  this  inevitable  literary  quality,  this  sure  mastery  of  style,  that 
mark  the  man,  as  much  as  the  thought  itself." 

124  26-28  I  am  not  unmindful  etc. :  In  regard  to  this  address  Hon- 
orable E.  J.  Phelps  wrote  Dr.  Hudson  in  1882  :  "  I  like  your  address 
extremely.  It  is  '  tender  and  true,'  clearly  and  eloquently  put.  You 
are  right,  in  my  small  estimation,  in  all  you  say  except  your  com- 
parison of  Webster  and  Burke,  in  the  matter  of  oratory.  Consider- 
ing the  speeches  of  both  as  'written  essays,  I  do  not  pretend  to  treat 
them  critically.  Very  likely  you  may  be  correct.  But  first  and  last 
in  public  speeches,  it  seems  to  me,  regard  is  to  be  had  to  their  imme- 
diate effectiveness  as  such  —  that  union  of  matter,  language,  man- 
ner, delivery,  and  timeliness  —  that  makes  up  oratory.  Viewed  thus, 
can  there  be  a  comparison  between  Webster,  who  chose  universal 
audience,  moved  and  melted  all  men,  and  left  on  their  minds  and 
hearts  an  enduring  as  well  as  an  immediate  result,  and  Burke, 
whose  speeches,  splendidly  as  they  read,  always  emptied  the  House? 
Webster's  sounded  better  than  anything  ever  read,  Burke's  read 
better  than  anything  ever  sounded.  But  on  the  score  of  oratory, 
the  immediate  audience  must  determine, — not  posterity;  because 
it  is  to  them  alone  it  is  addressed,  however  the  echo  of  it  may 
'  thunder  down  the  corridors  of  time.'  And  therefore,  with  due 
respect  and  regard  for  all  the  mighty  dead,  I  place  Webster  first 
and  foremost  as  an  orator,  over  all  men  we  have  any  account  of. 
He  alone  could  put  a  volume  into  a  sentence,  and  another  into  the 
pause  that  followed  it.  He  alone  could  blend  consummate  logic  with 
the  most  touching  eloquence,  in  such  wise  that  neither  weakened, 
but  each  strengthened  the  other."  Honorable  S.  W.  McCall  says  : 
"Burke  is,  I  think,  superior  to  Webster  as  a  political  philosopher, 
and  also  in  breadth  of  information  and  imaginative  power,  but  in 
excellence  of  the  great  mass  of  oratorical  work  which  he  left  behind 
him  he  does  not  much  surpass  Webster,  if  at  all.  .  .  .  The  glowing 
oratory  of  Edmund  Burke  will  live  until  sensibility  to  beauty  and 


200  NOTES 

the  generous  love  of  liberty  shall  die.  And  I  believe  the  words  of 
Webster,  nobly  voicing  the  possibilities  of  a  mighty  nation,  as  yet 
only  dimly  conscious  of  its  destiny,  will  continue  to  roll  upon  the 
ears  of  men  while  the  nation  he  helped  to  fashion  shall  endure, 
or  indeed  while  government  founded  upon  popular  freedom  shall 
remain  an  instrument  of  civilization." 

125  18-19  And  the  two  men  etc.:  On  the  occasion  of  Senator  George 
F.  Hoar's  visit  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  as  the  guest  of  the  New 
England  Society  in  December,  1891,  he  said:  "I  have  sometimes 
fancied  South  Carolina  and  Massachusetts,  these  two  illustrious  and 
heroic  sisters,  instead  of  sitting  apart,  one  under  her  palm  trees 
and  the  other  under  her  pines,  one  with  the  hot  gales  from  the  tropics 
fanning  her  brow  and  the  other  on  the  granite  rocks  of  her  ice- 
bound shores,  meeting  together  and  comparing  notes  and  stories  as 
sisters  born  of  the  same  mother  compare  notes  and  stories  after  a 
long  separation.  How  the  old  estrangements,  born  of  ignorance  of 
each  other,  would  have  melted  away ! 

"  Does  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  the  greatest  single  tribute  ever 
paid  to  Daniel  Webster  was  paid  by  Mr.  Calhoun  ?  and  the  greatest 
single  tribute  ever  paid  to  Mr.  Calhoun  was  paid  by  Mr.  Webster? 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  among  the  compliments  or  marks  of  honor 
which  attended  the  illustrious  career  of  Daniel  Webster  there  is 
one  that  he  would  have  valued  so  much  as  that  which  his  great 
friend,  his  great  rival  and  antagonist,  paid  him  from  his  dying  bed. 

" '  Mr.  Webster,'  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  '  has  as  high  a  standard  of 
truth  as  any  statesman  whom  I  have  met  in  debate.  Convince  him, 
and  he  cannot  reply ;  he  is  silent ;  he  cannot  look  truth  in  the  face 
and  oppose  it  by  argument.' 

"  There  was  never,  I  suppose,  paid  to  John  C.  Calhoun,  during 
his  illustrious  life,  any  other  tribute  of  honor  he  would  have  valued 
so  highly  as  that  which  was  paid  him  after  his  death  by  his  friend, 
his  rival  and  antagonist,  Daniel  Webster. 

"  '  Mr.  Calhoun,'  said  Mr.  Webster,  '  had  the  basis,  the  indispen- 
sable basis,  of  all  high  character;  and  that  was,  unspotted  integrity, 
—  unimpeached  honor  and  character.  If  he  had  aspirations,  they 
were  high  and  honorable  and  noble.  There  was  nothing  groveling, 
or  low,  or  meanly  selfish  that  came  near  the  head  or  the  heart  of 
Mr.  Calhoun.    Firm  in  his  purpose,  perfectly  patriotic  and  honest, 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  201 

as  I  was  sure  he  was,  in  the  principles  he  espoused,  and  in  the 
measures  he  defended,  aside  from  that  large  regard  for  that  species 
of  distinction  that  conducted  him  to  eminent  stations  for  the  benefit 
of  the  republic,  I  do  not  believe  he  had  a  selfish  motive  or  a  selfish 
feeling.' 

"  Just  think  for  a  moment  what  this  means.  If  any  man  ever  lived 
who  was  not  merely  the  representative,  but  the  embodiment  of  the 
thought,  opinion,  principles,  character,  quality,  intellectual  and  moral, 
of  the  people  of  South  Carolina  for  the  forty  years  from  1810  until 
his  death,  it  was  John  C.  Calhoun. 

"  If  any  man  ever  lived  who  not  merely  was  the  representative,  but 
the  embodiment  of  the  thought,  opinion,  principles,  character,  qual- 
ity, intellectual  and  moral,  of  the  people  of  Massachusetts,  it  was 
Daniel  Webster. 

"  Now,  if  after  forty  years  of  rivalry,  of  conflict,  of  antagonism, 
these  two  statesmen  of  ours  most  widely  differing  in  opinions  on 
public  questions,  who  never  met  but  to  exchange  a  blow,  the  sparks 
from  the  encounter  of  whose  mighty  swords  kindled  the  fires  which 
spread  over  the  continent,  thought  thus  of  one  another,  is  it  not 
likely  that  if  the  States  they  represented  could  have  met  with  the 
same  intimacy,  with  the  same  knowledge  and  companionship  during 
all  these  years,  they,  too,  would  have  understood,  and  understand- 
ing, would  have  loved  each  other?" 

127  20-27  Surely  the  people  etc.  :  On  the  publication  of  my  edition 
of  Webster 's  Select  Speeches  in  1893,  Senator  George  F.  Hoar  wrote 
me  :  "I  wish  that  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  land  would  get  these 
speeches  by  heart." 

128.3-5  He  was  indeed  etc.:  Honorable  S.W.  McCall  says  :  "There 
can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  majesty  of  his  personal  presence.  Business 
would  be  temporarily  suspended  when  he  walked  down  State  Street, 
while  people  rushed  to  doors  and  windows  to  see  him  pass." 

On  receiving  this  address  on  Webster,  February  24,  1882,  Dr. 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  wrote  to  Dr.  Hudson  :  "  Many  thanks  for 
your  fervid,  potent,  and  eloquent  discourse.  Mr.  Webster's  colossal 
figure  is  gradually  coming  out  of  the  mist  which  gathered  around  it 
in  the  evil  days.  If  he  could  only  have  lived  through  the  struggle  he 
could  not  avert !  He  was  the  most  impressive  human  being  I  ever 
looked  upon.    I  could  not  help  being  pleased  when  he  quoted  a. 


202  NOTES 

passage  from  one  of  my  poems  in  one  of  his  speeches.  That  is  the 
way  we  are  made." 

130  14-n  In  the  summer  of  1839  etc. :  "  Mr.  Webster  approaches  as 
nearly  to  the  beau  ideal  of  a  republican  Senator  as  any  man  that  I 
have  ever  seen  in  the  course  of  my  life ;  worthy  of  Rome  or  Venice 
rather  than  of  our  noisy  and  wrangling  generation." —  Hallam. 

"  Coleridge  used  to  say  that  he  had  seldom  known  or  heard  of 
any  great  man  who  had  not  much  of  the  woman  in  him.  Even  so 
the  large  intellect  of  Daniel  Webster  seemed  to  be  coupled  with 
all  softer  feelings ;  and  his  countenance  and  bearing,  at  the  very 
first,  impressed  me  with  this.  A  commanding  brow,  thoughtful 
eyes,  and  a  mouth  that  seemed  to  respond  to  all  humanities.  He 
deserves  his  fame,  I  am  sure."  —  John  Kenyon. 

"  He  is  a  magnificent  specimen.  You  might  say  to  all  the  world, 
'  This  is  our  Yankee  Englishman ;  such  limbs  we  make  in  Yankee- 
land  !  '  As  a  parliamentary  Hercules  one  would  incline  to  back 
him  at  first  sight  against  all  the  extant  world.  The  tanned  com- 
plexion ;  the  amorphous  craglike  face;  the  dull  black  eyes  under 
the  precipice  of  brows,  like  dull  anthracite  furnaces  needing  only 
to  be  blown;  the  mastiff  mouth,  accurately  closed;  I  have  not 
traced  so  much  of  silent  Berserkir  rage  that  I  remember  of  in  any 
other  man."  —  Thomas  Carlyle. 

148  13-17  The  truth  of  the  matter  etc. :  Honorable  S.  W.  McCall 
says  :  "  In  the  speeches  of  some  of  the  leaders  of  the  antislavery 
movement,  denunciation  of  slavery  had  the  second  place  and 
denunciation  of  Webster  the  first ;  and  when  the  time  of  consum- 
mation came,  even  Lincoln  did  not  escape  their  acrimony." 

149  17-23  As  for  the  speech  of  the  7th  of  March  etc.  :  In  a  review 
of  that  speech  as  given  in  Honorable  S.  W.  McCall's  Daniel  Webster, 
Mr.  McCall  says:  "And  had  that  great  statesman  on  the  7th  of 
March  shown  any  less  anxiety  for  the  Union,  had  that  great  cen- 
tripetal force  become  centrifugal  or  weakened  in  the  attraction 
which  it  exerted  to  hold  the  States  in  their  orbits,  who  shall  say 
that  our  magnificent  and  now  united  domain  might  not  be  cursed 
by  two  hostile  flags,  one  of  which  would  float  over  a  republic 
founded  upon  slavery  !  " 

153  8-7  It  was  written  in  1850  etc. :  This  poem  has  something  of 
the  spirit  of  Browning's  Lost  Leader,  which  has  been  considered  as 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  203 

a  mild  thrust  at  Wordsworth  for  the  conservatism  of  his  later  life, 
although  Browning  confessed  that  he  "  used  the  great  and  vener- 
ated personality  of  Wordsworth  only  as  a  sort  of  painter's  model, 
and  not  as  portraying  the  entire  man."  Of  Webster's  treatment  as 
a  result  of  the  7th  of  March  speech,  Honorable  S.  W.  McCall  says: 
"And  then  there  is  that  ill-omened  thing  which,  wherever  else  it 
may  be  found,  is  sure  to  attend  greatness.  The  baleful  goddess 
of  Detraction  sits  ever  at  the  elbow  of  Fame,  unsweetening  what 
is  written  upon  the  record.  .  .  .  This  proof  of  greatness,  such  as 
it  is,  exists  in  ample  measure  in  the  history  of  Webster.  No  man 
since  Washington  has  had  more  of  it.  The  pity  of  it  all  is,  that 
when  an  unsupported  charge  is  disproved,  some  people  will  shake 
their  heads  and  say  it  is  very  unfortunate  that  it  should  have  been 
necessary  to  establish  innocence ;  as  if  reproof  belonged  rather  to 
the  innocent  victim  than  to  the  author  of  the  calumny." 

153  23-28  It  is  but  fair  to  add  etc.  :  Honorable  George  F.  Hoar 
says:  "  Whittier,  who  had  written  Ichabod,  brought  his  imperishable 
tribute  of  affection  and  honor,  which,  alas  !  was  never  placed  on  the 
brow  of  Webster,  but  only  laid  on  his  grave." 

156  22-2G  Yes,  the  great  soul  of  Daniel  Webster  etc.:  Honorable 
S.  W.  McCall  says  of  the  Reply  to  Hayne :  "  It  was  this  speech  more 
than  any  other  single  event,  from  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution 
to  the  Civil  War,  which  compacted  the  States  into  a  nation.  There 
were  comparatively  few  people  in  the  country  able  to  read  and  to 
follow  public  affairs  who  did  not  read  the  more  important  portions 
of  it.  The  leading  newspapers  published  it  in  full.  Vast  numbers 
of  copies  were  sent  out  in  the  form  of  pamphlets.  It  was  declaimed 
by  schoolboys  in  every  schoolhouse.  It  gave  the  nation  a  definite 
impulse  towards  nationality,  and  it  laid  down  the  battle  line  for 
those  splendid  armies  which  fought  and  triumphed  in  the  cause  of 
the  Union." 

162  2-7  His  memory  will  out-tongue  etc. :  At  the  opening  exer- 
cises of  the  Webster  Centennial  of  Dartmouth  College,  on  Septem- 
ber 25,  1901,  President  Tucker  said:  "Webster's  influence  is  vital 
to-day  in  the  thought  and  feelings  of  men  in  respect  to  the  country. 
We  have  learned,  we  have  begun  to  learn,  to  think  about  the  coun- 
try in  his  terms,  and  to  feel  about  it  as  he  felt.  His  conceptions 
were  so  great  that  they  could  find  room    only  in    his   own   mind. 


204  NOTES 

They  belong  to  the  United  States  of  to-day,  not  to  the  nation  of 
his  time.  Thus  far  Webster  is  the  only  man  who  has  comprehended 
the  American  people.  Until  a  greater  American  than  he  shall  arise, 
he  will  live  in  the  still  unfulfilled  destiny  of  the  Republic." 

Chief  Justice  Melville  \V.  Fuller,  at  the  Webster  Centennial  of 
Dartmouth  College,  said :  "  Nearly  forty-nine  years  ago,  an  under- 
graduate on  leave  of  absence  for  the  purpose,  I  attended  the  funeral 
of  Mr.  Webster  at  Marshfield.  The  beauty  of  that  October  day ; 
the  majestic  aspect  of  the  great  lawyer  and  advocate,  statesman 
and  orator,  as  he  lay  in  his  accustomed  habiliments  under  the 
spreading  branches  of  a  beautiful  tree  in  front  of  the  mansion ;  and 
the  walk  of  neighbors  and  friends,  distinguished  personages  and 
others,  over  the  fields  to  the  grave,  are  still  vivid  in  my  memory. 
As  a  youth  I  paid  that  tribute  to  Daniel  Webster,  an  incident  quite 
unimportant  save  to  the  boy  himself,  and  I  repeat  it  now  after  a 
lapse  of  nearly  fifty  years,  with  the  added  significance  involved  in 
the  office  I  hold,  whose  incumbent,  if  another  than  myself,  would 
have  been  fully  justified,  as  I  am,  in  bearing  witness  as  such  to  the 
immortality  of  a  fame  so  connected  with  the  administration  of  jus- 
tice, and  with  the  vindication  of  liberty  as  the  creation  of  law,  that, 
to  use  his  own  language,  it  '  is  and  must  be  as  durable  as  the  frame 
of  human  society.' " 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  when  the  poll  was  taken  for  the  one 
hundred  greatest  names  in  American  history,  to  be  placed  in  the 
Hall  of  Fame,  Washington  stood  first  in  the  list,  while  Lincoln  and 
Webster  tied  for  the  second  place. 


BOOKS  QUOTED   IN   NOTES 

Ainger,  A.,  "  Teaching  of  English  Literature,"  Lectures  and  Essays, 

Vol.  II. 
Arnold,  M.,  "  Milton,"  "  The  Study  of  Poetry,"  Essays  in  Criticism 

(Second  Series). 
Barrie,  J.  M.,  Margaret  Ogilvy. 

Benson,  A.  C,  "  Education,"  From  a  College  Window. 
Birrell,  A.,  "  How  to  Tell  a  Good  Book  from  a  Bad  One,"  Essays 

and  Addresses. 
Brooks,  P.,  "  The  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Temple,"  Twenty  Sermons. 

"  Literature  and  Life,"  Essays. 

Corson,  H.,  Aims  of  Literary  Study. 

The  Voice  and  Spiritual  Education. 

Collins,  J.  C,  The  Study  of  English  Literature,  Chapters  II  and 

IV. 
Dowden,  E.,  "  The  Interpretation  of  Literature,"  Transcripts  and 

Studies. 

"The  Teaching  of  Literature,"  New  Studies  in  Literature. 

Fuller,    M.  W.,    Address    at    Webster     Centennial,    Dartmouth 

College. 
Harrison,  F.,  The  Choice  of  Books. 

"  English  Prose,"  Tennyson,  Ruskin,  Mill. 

Hutton,  R.  H.,  "  The  Storing  of  Literary  Power,"  Brief  Literary 

Criticism. 
Hoar,  G.  F.,  Address  at  the  Inauguration  of  President  Carroll  D. 

Wright,  Clark  College. 

Address  at  Webster  Centennial,  Dartmouth  College. 

Hunt,  T.  W.,  "The  Place  of  Literature  in  Liberal  Studies,"  Litera- 
ture :  Its  Principles  and  Problems. 
James,  W.,  "The  Gospel  of  Relaxation,"  Talks  on  Psychology  and 

Life's  Ideals. 
Lee,  Sidney,  Life  of  William  Shakespeare. 

205 


206       BOOKS  QUOTED  IN  NOTES 

Lowell,   J.   R.,    "  Books  and    Libraries,"    Democracy    and    Other 

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